sweet wild apple tree

Story by kidzlitcobhouse
Illustration by OwlPoo



Jagoda lived in a small cobhouse on a meadow surrounded by lakes and forests in the scenic wilderness area called Kawartha. Close by, there was a little town, but Jagoda’s bungalow was out of its sight. From fall to late spring, Jagoda spent time in Kawartha. In the summers, she traveled to the city to see her granddaughter.

Her granddaughter’s name was Tha, which was short for Kawartha. Naturally, Jagoda was the one to choose her granddaughter’s name.

Tha spent most of the year in the middle school she attended in her neighbourhood. On the summer break, she refused to go to summer camps because spending time with her grandmother was more important than anything else. For Tha, the time spent with her grandma were periods of intense hands-on learning, and she loved it.

During the quiet months in her lodge, Jagoda was very busy. She divided her time between illustrating children’s picture books and freelancing for local newspapers. She researched and wrote on a very broad and complex topic called global warming.

Even when they were not together during most of the year, Jagoda reached to Tha through her newspaper articles and book illustrations. Many times, in the dark winter months, early in the morning before going to school, Tha would find a newspaper article, authored by her grandma, stretched on the kitchen table. Even if Tha didn’t understand all of the issues Jagoda was writing about, holding the grandma’s article in her hands bridged the physical distance between them.

Tha could feel Jagoda’s presence through her writing. It transmitted her grandma’s thoughts, her emotions and her passion. Tha’s heart was overwhelmed with excitement whenever she found Jagoda’s articles on the kitchen table. She would press it against her chest and almost sigh in tears. She missed her grandma so much.

Also, Jagoda reached in Tha’s school experience through her book illustrations. There were books in Tha’s classroom and school library which carried her grandma’s drawings. Jagoda did her illustrations in oil pastels and water colours. Tha loved to immerse herself in deep, rich colours of her grandma’s dreamy drawings and paintings. Like the grandma, Tha loved strong radiant colours. Just like Jagoda, Tha could think and feel in colours.

In between periods of intense work on illustrations, research and writing, Jagoda knitted gloves, hats, shawls and sweaters for Tha. She would wrap Tha’s winter gifts in soft and brightly coloured gift paper and place the bundle in a box she taped many times over before stamping it with Tha’s address. Jagoda’s neighbours from a nearby town would take the bundle to the post office after visiting with her on days when weather allowed travel.

Jagoda also sewed Tha’s summer dresses. She usually wrapped bars of her home-made soap in those dresses. The essence of the silver sage from Kawartha would be unlocked in the soapy bubbles on Kawartha's skin in the summer.

Jagoda was busy in the quiet months, but she loved what she did. She could be engaged in her work for hours and not even notice it. Her creativity and insight drew on the well of deep silence which graced her little lodge. During short winter days, she enjoyed looking through the window at the sparkling snow marked with animal footsteps. Her nights were awash in moonlight and stardust seeping in through the window, and filled with the howling of wolves brought with the winds from the other end of the forest.

In late May or early June, Jagoda traveled to the city. Tha and her mom waited for Jagoda at the train station and helped carry her luggage heavy with Tha’s gifts. Tha’s mom felt lucky that Jagoda came to stay with them for the whole summer. Eli worked long hours and had no time for Tha. Tha and her mom hardly saw each other. Jagoda’s presence was indispensable.

Tha and her grandma were inseparable from the moment Jagoda got off the train. They
slept on the same bed next to each other during nights and held their hands together during days when resting on the couch in the living room. They cooked together, did arts and crafts together, read together, went to the market together, gardened together, laughed together, talked, and dreamed together. Every minute was precious, and time passed by very quickly.


II

One day in mid August, after a torrent of unexpected summer rain, the atmosphere was sparkling in brilliance. Tha and Jagoda were on their way to the market. Tha was holding her grandma’s soft hand and talking in exuberance while Jagoda’s smiling eyes followed Tha’s playful movements with curiosity and patience.

As they walked absorbed in each other, they noticed a large apple tree in front of them. There were so many apples on the sidewalk they had to tiptoe around not to crush them. Had there not been all these apples on the ground, they might have never noticed the apple tree. But those apples on the sidewalk were right in their faces, as if screaming “pick me up.”

Looking up at the crown of the tree, Tha could see branches sagging under the weight of its fruit. The tree had to bear with its profusion until someone picked the apples - but was anyone going to pick them Tha wondered.

The tree was on the edge of someone’s front lawn arching over the sidewalk. Mmmm, Tha loved apples, but apples she usually ate were the ones her mom bought at a local store. It never occurred to Tha that she could eat apples without paying money for them, and that a tree can grow fruits and feed people for free.

The apples from this wild tree were smaller than the apples from the grocery store, and of different sizes. Their skin was tightly wrapped around their flesh, strong, and in the same time so thin and tender. The apples from the store were all same size; their skin was thick and had a plastic shine. For the first time in her life, Tha ate an apple she received as a gift from a tree.

Tha though this tree carried profusion of apples because its best friends were bees and butterflies. Bees and butterflies would love the budding flowers of this tree in the spring because they were full of sweet nectar and there were no residues of pesticides and herbicides. No one sprayed this tree. It was obvious that nature took care of it, and apples loved nature and its cycles.

It seemed that during previous years when no one picked them, those apples that fell on the grass close to the trunk decomposed and went back into the soil. The roots of the tree sucked up all the juices and this could be tasted in the amazing sweetness of the apples that Tha and her grandma found on their way to the market.

Apples never tasted this good, Tha thought. Each apple was a bundle of sunshine and morning honey dew, bursting with colour and amazing sweetness. How could it be that all these apples were rotting on the sidewalk? The street had a dark stain from all the apples being flattened by cars driving by. There were so many apples swept in the ditch, so many apples stepped on on the sidewalk. The smell of apple cider pervaded the air.

Tha had a strange thought. “Grandma,” she said, “we don’t have to go to the market to buy apples. We can pick these apples. They are free, and they taste delicious. Can’t you taste it, they are sweeter than honey!?”

After listening patiently, Jagoda nodded and winked at Tha. In no time, she was up on the stairs of the house the apple tree belonged to, ringing the bell. An old lady came out. She walked resting on her cane one step at a time. Jagoda greeted her with visible excitement on her animated face and a wide smile while talking, giggling and turning around to point at the tree and the apples on the sidewalk. The old lady nodded and smiled back, but in one short moment her face got serious as she seemed to be explaining something about her cane and difficulty to walk around. Their conversation was short, but had the intensity of a very meaningful encounter. Jagoda scribbled something on a small piece of paper, slipped it in her pocket, waved goodbye and left.

When she came back, Jagoda told Tha to pick as many smiling apples as her little hands could carry and put them in her tote. “The old lady,” she explained, “is not well. She lives on her own and has no one to help her pick the apples.”

Instead of going to the market, Jagoda decided to go straight back home. Some important business was cooking in her lively body. As if carried on dove’s wings, they arrived home quickly. Some solemn expectant feeling was in the air. Tha felt her grandma had something urgent and burning on her mind. She mistakenly thought that Jagoda rushed home to make an apple pie. Tha loved grandma’s apple pies. They were most delicious and spicy. A pinch or two of grated lemon rind and ginger mixed with freshly ground cinnamon and rose water gave grandma’s pies unparalleled, unique taste Tha could not resist. In fact, the taste and smell of grandma’s apple pie spices were so infused in Tha’s own body that she dreamed it night after night during winter months when Jagoda was far away in the little lodge in Kawartha.

This time, however, Jagoda didn’t bake an apple pie. Instead, she nibbled on apples as she took a blank piece of paper and a pen, and sat down. Very focused and deep in thoughts, Jagoda closed her eyes and her face became tense and solemn. She remained in such a thoughtful position and serene silence for some time as if trying to clue into some mysterious cosmic frequencies.

Suddenly, with the sound of birds taking flight, Jagoda moved and started writing something on the paper. Tha didn’t dare interrupt her grandma. The bright halo enveloping Jagoda’s focused and busy figure kept Tha at a distance. Tha marveled at this dear old soul. To Tha, grandma was dearest of all souls.

After some time, Jagoda exclaimed triumphantly, “Done! What do you think?” she asked Tha showing her the piece of paper she worked on so seriously just a moment ago. Tha came closer and started to read;

SWEET & WILD APPLE PICKING FESTIVAL
Saturday August 16
10AM - 3PM
Join us picking free apples in your neighbour’s yard
Intersection of Sunnyside Avenue and Flowery Crescent
Need a person who can transport bags of apples
to local shelters and community centres
Free Coffee, Tea and apple pies will be served
call your neighbour Jagoda at 716 760 9138 to make arrangements

Jagoda printed this notice twice on the same paper. One notice was on the upper half of the paper and the other one was on the bottom half. She also embellished her public notice with her crafty sketch of an apple tree whose apples had smiley faces. Next to the tree, she sketched a picture of a heart, and above the tree, there was a picture of the sun shining down on the tree and the heart. Grandma’s cute sketches, definitely looked interesting if not inspiring. They really grabbed Tha’s attention.

“Grandma, what is this all about?” Tha asked.
Jagoda said that the old lady with the apple tree didn’t need all the apples and welcomed them to pick them.

“But grandma, why do we have to pick the old lady’s apples?” Tha whined. Jagoda drew a short breath, rubbed her chin and with serious but sad eyes responded with an unexpected number of questions and a story which at first seemed unrelated to Tha’s query.

“Imagine a bucket full of golden coins,” she said, “and a hundred people to share those golden coins. Tha, what would happen if ten of those hundred people took almost all of the golden coins?” Tha had her thoughts but remained silent. She knew grandma didn’t expect her to answer the question. It was only a rhetorical question.
After a short pause, grandma continued, “If ten out of hundred people took most of the golden coins, ninety of them, which is the majority, would have to split among themselves very few left-over coins. Would a left-over number of golden coins be enough to fulfill needs of ninety people? Tha, tell me now what do you think happened with the golden coins in the bucket?”

“Well,” Tha said, “very few people took most of the coins while most people got very few left- over coins.” Tha repeated grandma’s words, so grandma knew that Tha was listening and paying attention.

“Yes Tha, very few people took more than they ever needed. This had left the majority of people with less than what was necessary to live on. You see Tha, people were not sharing in equal portions those golden coins from the bucket. Those that were left with none or less than necessary to live on had to beg. And those very few who took almost all the coins, well, they had so much that they could give it as charity or wages, rather than split it equally as it should have been done in the first place. Now, you tell me my dear Tha if this is fair?”

“No, it’s not fair, grandma. It is not fair to take more than you need and to make others suffer because of it,” Tha bursted, almost in tears.

“Are you crying?” asked grandma and took Tha’s hand into hers, holding it and stroking it. “I agree, it is very painful when things are not fair and when people suffer because of the greed of a very few. It is important that you share what you have with others without any reservation. It is important that we don’t leave those apples on the street. It is important that we do something so that instead of rotting on the street, people who need them can have them.”

“You see,” Jagoda continued, “those apples are very special. They are special because they are free. They were never grown to be sold in stores. They were left to grow free. The apples sold in most stores have residues of pesticides and herbicides on them. We talked about it before, remember?”
Tha nodded, and sensing grandma’s eagerness to continue talking, she remained silent.

“The grocery store apples are also shipped from far away places in trucks, ships and airplanes even though there are so many apple trees right here in our midst. For now, trucks, ships and airplanes run on oil. In the future they may run on liquid coal and oil shale. When these fossil fuels burn to power transportation vehicles, very toxic fumes go up in the air. Through natural cycles, toxic particles and gases, which are released by burning fossil fuels, move through our environment and end up in our water and soil. This is called pollution. Pollution is very dangerous to our health and so are those pesticide and herbicide residues on apples from grocery stores. People buy those apples because they want to eat healthy, but in fact they usually don’t know where these apples come from or what happens to them before arriving on the shelf. You have to go to the source of things to get to know the truth. You have to study relationships between things in detail to get to know the truth,” Jagoda finally smiled faintly and then fell silent.

Tha’s eyes fell down on the notice grandma created, and grew large. She had never seen anything like this. After listening to grandma’s wisdom, and looking at the magic piece of paper, Tha’s eyes and skin lit up with excitement. She loved to learn from grandma. She felt that her grandma was gluing broken pieces of different things into one meaningful whole. Jagoda told very important stories in a way that made sense to Tha.

When Jagoda asked Tha if she could help her make some copies of the notice and post them around in the neighbourhood, Tha’s voice was a high pitched big “Yes! …”
Grandma was into something that sounded like a mystery adventure, and Tha jumped right into the plot, splashing with enthusiasm, “… Grandma, I always like to go with you.”

Soon, they were on their way to a printing shop, bouncing along like little candle flames. Jagoda ordered quite a few copies. The page could be folded in two and cut, so one page would yield two notices. This technique doubled the number of copies but not the price. Jagoda giggled to herself, looking happy over the stack of her public notices.

“Let’s hurry up,” said Jagoda, “we have a lot of work to do. We have to post this notice at many different places in this neighbourhood so that most people get a chance to see it. Jagoda was very fit and agile. Tha scuttled behind her trying to catch up.

“Grandma, wait for me, maaaa…”

“Tha, we don’t have time. This is real work that has to be done! On top, it’s my turn to be making dinner tonight before Elie arrives from work.”

Tha was astounded at how serious Jagoda was. Tha knew her grandma as a very playful, warm, kind and gentle soul. This transformation into serious and efficient person made Tha think that she really didn’t know her grandma that well. Jagoda would come in the summer for a visit and then leave just before Tha returned to school. Maybe this time, Jagoda thought that Tha was ready to learn some important lessons.

Jagoda was a very serious teacher and so it occurred to Tha that more than ever, here and now with her grandma, she had to be a committed learner. Learning from her grandma was a very special gift which commanded high respect. Tha felt this deep in her soul and caught up to Jagoda, now walking shoulder to shoulder with her grandmother.

First they dropped off their notice in places of worship. Their neighbourhood was racially, ethnically and linguistically diverse. There were mosques, synagogues, churches, Buddhist and Sikh temples within a walking distance.

Grandma was very spiritual, but her spirituality was interfaith. She loved Gods of every religion and also Creator. She loved and was friends with many different people. Different places of worship were her second home. What she cared about was that she was kind and helpful to people around her.

If a place of worship was open, Jagoda looked for a community notice board where to peg her poster on. If doors were locked and no one answered, she left the notice in the mailbox. On those notices she had to leave in mailboxes, she scribbled, “Please let your congregation know about the following event; will call you to confirm you received it.” She also posted it on the telephone poles on the public sidewalks right in front of the entrances of the places of worship.

They walked fast from synagogues, to mosques to temples to churches, and stopped in between on larger intersections to tape the poster on light posts. On their way home, they covered a local library, bakery, coffee shop, a grocery store, and a community centre. All these places luckily had community posting boards and Tha had the privilege of pegging grandma’s poster on so that everyone could see it.

It was late afternoon when they finished. Tha was really tired and hungry, but she was very proud of what she had actively learned that day. It felt better than receiving a gold medal after a fierce contest. When she ate apples from the wild apple tree, she felt as if she was in the garden of Eden where fruit trees fed people for free. Helping to spread the heavenly fruit in her own community so everyone could get the taste of Eden made her feel very, very powerful, and yet in the same time graciously humbled. She never knew the humbling power of the spirit of community participation and sharing. In school, she was taught to work individually and compete with her peers. They also did some group work, but its purpose was to achieve the efficiency necessary for producing and perfecting an assigned product. The teacher said they were schooled to become a productive workforce in the knowledge economy.

Grandma’s lessons were different. In fact, they felt very much organic and fun. Finding and creating opportunities in the community for mutual giving and sharing and receiving was most fun Tha had ever had in her entire life. Tha loved learning from her grandma. Her lessons taught her about caring for each other, feeling for each other, sharing with each other, creating public spaces for each other and rejoicing in each other.

Grandma’s spirit of community organizing was contagious. No wonder people held Tha’s grandma, Jagoda, in high regard. It didn’t matter that Jagoda spent only summers in Tha’s neighbourhood. She was very active and knew her neighbours.

Jagoda had a magic way of relating to people around her. Her soul was like a pulsating, radiant glow surrounding her body. The strength of the glow varied from the glow of the Sun to the glow of a candle flame to the glow of the Moon and the rising Morning Star. To Tha, she was a person from the universe of mystery and wonder where people wore gowns full of sparks which would shake off like fine star dust when they moved around. People were drawn to Jagoda and liked to bask in her colourful, bouncing light.

Tha had a feeling that the more one gave to the community, the deeper and more colourful the glow grew. She wished to wrap herself in light, but of course Tha knew that the light was radiating from inside one’s soul. The path to light was more difficult than anything else. Tha wanted to walk on the path of light, and feeling so loved and cared for in her grandma’s embrace, how could she not? She wanted to learn to walk in grandma’s shoes.


III

The next day, Jagoda spent some time on the phone informing her acquaintances about the upcoming event she was organizing. She also called the places of worship with which she could not get in touch on the previous day. She was explaining in a very emotional and pleading way how important it was not to leave apples to rot on the street; how important it was for the apples to reach many of our people in the community. She explained that everything was arranged with the landlady the apple tree belonged to. When she finished, her face was puffed with a reddish hue. She was full of renewed energy as if she herself had won something better than a gold medal. She glanced at Tha and said, “Let’s make apple pies,” and swiftly disappeared in the kitchen.

Many times, Tha ate grandma’s special apple pies, but this time she learned how to make them. This time, Jagoda was making many apple pies. She expected to meet a lot of people at the apple picking fair and it was on her to bake enough pies so there was enough for everyone. She was wondering how to pull this off, and realized that she would have to make four or five pies each day. The previous day when they postered was Wednesday. Now it was Thursday and in a day and a half would be Saturday.

“By the Saturday morning, we could have eight pies minimum,” she said, “Not bad, eh?”

Jagoda opened cupboards and started taking out the dishes she needed for baking, when suddenly it dawned on her that they didn’t have enough apples. Besides, they didn’t go to the market and were out of lemons, raisins and honey. Grandma preferred honey to white or brown sugar. Honey, she said was healthier. She was also teaching Tha that it was not necessary to put much honey in the apple pie because raisins which she mixed in the apple pie fill were naturally sweet.

As they were in a real rush, Jagoda and Tha decided to ride their bikes to the market and pick more of the same wild apples they found on the previous day on their way back. Jagoda took with her a large wicker basket and gave Tha a tote to carry. They put their helmets on, hopped on their bikes and rode to the market.

Bikes were very helpful because Jagoda and Tha could ride through laneways and take shortcuts avoiding all the traffic jam and the end-of-tail pollution on the main streets. Riding their bikes was really exciting because they never knew when they would discover a new passageway through which to squeeze, but to their delight, this happened often. Thinking they knew their neighbourhood, they would be most surprised when paths they had never seen before opened in front of them. On bikes, they felt as if traveling with birds and they could breathe in fresh air. Those were luxuries those driving cars could not afford.

On the way back Jagoda and Tha had to take care balancing baskets full of fruits and vegetables on the handles of their loaded bikes.

After arriving home and putting away the vegetables they bought and apples they picked under the magic apple tree, Jagoda decided to use one of her larger baking trays for the apple pies she was making for the fair. She turned on the oven and then started kneading doe and making the apple pie fill. Apples from the magic tree had very thin and nourishing rind so Jagoda thought they should not waste time peeling the apples. Indeed, she thought apple rind may give apple pies more fiber and a better taste. She was happy to leave it in the mix. By doing this, Tha’s multiple hours of peeling the apples were spared. Instead, she focused on her grandma’s work trying to learn the art of apply-pie baking.

Soon the kitchen smelled mmmm yummy. The pungent smell of grated lemon rind mixed with earthy and warming smell of freshly ground cinnamon and grated ginger. Grandma’s rose water, she made by soaking pink rose petals from the rose bush in their back yard, added a touch of a radiant aroma. Baking apple pies in succession one after the other was a lot of work, but the fragrant atmosphere of a cozy kitchen felt like a dream. Tha wanted these hours to stretch across her whole lifespan. Tha wished all learning was this fragrant and delicious. She also wished all learning was of benefit to community. She thought she was learning invaluable lessons with her grandma, lessons not taught anywhere else but around that little kitchen table, right in her home. What Jagoda was teaching Tha came from her mother, Tha’s great grandma’s wisdom. Tha wondered where the knowledge she received at school came from. She didn’t know. Nobody ever said where the school lessons came from.

The fragrant smell in the kitchen became more potent as apple pies baked in the oven in succession one after the other. It was so warm, so sweet and spicy in the room of apple pie baking. The ambiance could be said to have been one from an oil pastel drawing with a lot of deep yellow, orange and purple. Tha was looking forward to the next day. They needed to bake just as many apply pies on Friday.

After pies cooled down, Jagoda was transferring them in cardboard boxes lined with wax paper. She taped them sealed. Tha’s task was to reinforce the edges and the bottom of the boxes with the tape and to wrap the boxes in the thin, colourful paper she used in her arts and crafts classes. Tha’s was the last touch on the sweet wild and spicy home-made apple pies. Tha wrapped the tape around each of the boxes, making a loop, which served as a carrying handle. They needed to carry the boxes, and having this type of a handle was crucial.

While she was taping the box edges, Tha couldn’t resist the thought of wanting to eat some of Jagoda’s apple pie. But she didn’t say anything. She could have begged her grandma to cut a piece or two for her. She could have whined and, no question, Jagoda would give in, but seeing her grandma’s serious and focused face, Tha understood that the pies were made exclusively for the apple picking festival on Saturday.

Tha just could not wait to be part of this very special occasion, organized by no one else but her old grandma. Waiting to taste the grandma’s apple pies until Saturday made the festival feel even more important. Yearning for apple pies became yearning for participation in the apple picking festival. She just couldn’t wait. Waiting suddenly felt long and forever. Tha was so excited that she started to wonder if Saturday would ever arrive. She counted minutes and hours. This helped her follow time. And time was moving fast.

It was dark outside when Jagoda turned off the oven. Baking for that day was over. Tha helped her clean up the dishes. Finally, the lights in the kitchen were flicked off, and Jagoda, with her arm around Tha’s shoulder, walked over to the the living room.

Tha slumped on the couch. Jagoda lit the candle, turned off lights and laid beside Tha. They snuggled under the lovely quilted blanket.

Leaning her head against Jagoda’s shoulder, Tha kissed her grandma's face. Jagoda kissed back Tha and said, “ I love you Tha. You did so much work today. Thank you for helping.”

In no time, Tha dozed off. Jagoda was still, but her eyes were open. She was looking at the dancing candleflame light on the ceiling. Her eyes were smiling while she was deep in thoughts. The melting beeswax scented their room with a warm smell of honey.

Tha was deep in sleep. Her breathing was soft and quiet. After some time of muffled whispers and sporadic giggles, Jagoda blew out the candle and disappeared in the land of her sweet dreams.

IV

Birds singing on the tree outside Tha’s open window woke her up early in the morning. Her bedroom still smelled of baked apples and cinnamon. She heard noise of energetic work coming from the kitchen and slipped from the bed running to see what her grandmother was up to. She could not believe. Jagoda was in the middle of baking apple pies.

“Wait for me, grandma, wait for me. I want to bake the last apple pie all by myself,” said Tha.

“That will be fantastic, I would love to see you bake the last apple pie. Now, put on some clothes and have some breakfast first. I’ll put on the tea for you.” Jagoda said.

Tha was so hungry that she could eat two breakfasts. Tha and Jagoda were so enchanted on the previous night that they simply forgot to eat their dinner. They felt too tired to even think about preparing and eating dinner. That’s why Tha felt such a huge hole in her stomach that morning. She wanted to eat eggs sunny-side-up and yogurt with grandma’s spelt bread, a lot of it.

Grandma laughed when she saw Tha’s appetite. “You are very hungry, Tha, I know. We worked so much yesterday, we forgot to eat and Elie had to survive making her own dinner. I am so sorry, but that’s how it is when you sacrifice yourself for causes larger than your personal self-interest. You become very connected to Creator when you work for others. Creator fills you with love and that’s why you feel full even when you’re hungry. Creator is in everyone and with everyone. When you sacrifice yourself, you receive back from Creator. You receive magic gifts. Did you know this?” Jagoda’s voice became quieter as she spoke and ended with a whisper which trickled into the sea of silence. Agape, Tha was listening. Her grandma’s words felt like beautiful music.

The whole Friday morning was devoted to apple pie baking. Spicy fragrance inside the kitchen mixed with wisps of air blowing in from the garden. In the summer heat, all windows were open and the door leading to the beautiful garden in the backyard were wide open too. They heard bees buzzing in the flower bushes. They heard rustling of millions of green leaves when wind touched the trees. Jagoda’s voice was woven into this soundscape of silence filled with buzzing and rustling. She told stories while apple pies baked. Her storytelling continued through the afternoon and into the evening. It was a very special day for Tha. She listened, soaked up and absorbed grandma’s stories because grandma’s stories were Tha’s stories as well. Tha would discover later on that her grandma’s stories were a key to knowing her own self.

Much, much later on in life, Tha remembered Jagoda’s stories, many of which were told on that Friday when apple pies baked in the hot oven. As if looking inside the kaleidoscope, Tha’s memories skipped in fast succession. From grandma’s stories, Tha remembered a beautiful river which ran through a very old town where Jagoda grew up, and how she swam in the sparkling green waters of the river in the summers and skated on its thick blue ice in the winters. She remembered her great grandfather as a carpenter who had a tremendous sense of humour. Tha remembered Jagoda as a young woman walking down the street when the rain of bullets poured down, and how she hid under the roof of a nearby house, and survived…. And then Jagoda’s little sister in her school one day when she was singled out and shot by a soldier, who claimed that she was hiding a forbidden message in her books….. And then Jagoda’s big brother.. a war hero many schools and city streets were named after in recognition of his courage…. And then Jagoda’s husband, Tha’s grandfather who survived a Nazi labour camp…

Tha wanted to remember more. She wanted to know more about each of these remarkable individuals from her own past. But she hardly even knew their names. Knowing her ancestors would help her know more about who she was. But remembering was difficult and sporadic because Jagoda told stories only sometimes.

Tha could remember asking Jagoda to tell her more stories especially at night before they fell asleep next to each other. Years later, Tha knew there were stories behind every individual in her family. She knew how important it was that each of those stories was told. She also knew that those stories were not told. She remembered only traces. She only had clues to her own story.

Phone rang startling both Tha and Jagoda. “Grandma, it is for you,” Tha said after picking up the phone.

“Hello, … yes.. a-ha…great! Thank you very much. See you tomorrow..” Jagoda said in a friendly and excited tone of voice and hung up.

“Imagine Tha, we will have transportation for tomorrow. I don’t know the person, but she said she was responding to our public notice from the community centre. She is offering to drive the bagged apples to some of the local shelters.”

“Reeeeaaaallyyyy?” Tha exclaimed.

“Yeeeaaah.” “She also said she would come along with a friend who would also like to help us picking apples.”

“That’s so nice,” Tha said, “but grandma, to be honest, I never expected that anyone would respond to your ad.”

Jagoda rolled her eyes and said, “Look, you have to put up those posters whether people responded or not. Even if they didn’t respond, they would be aware that the event was taking place, and that is quite enough for me.

“Aaa-ha,” Tha offered reluctantly, “But isn’t the point of posting a public notice to have people join the event?”

“The point is,” Jagoda jumped right in, “that the event is free and public. This means that everyone can join. If people join, that’s fun, and if they don’t join that’s even more fun because more good work would be left for us to do, and I love doing it. Don’t you?”

Tha was taken aback by the flood of light which poured from Jagoda’s eyes. Tha stared at her dumbfounded.

“You should not choose not to do something,” Jagoda continued, “only because other people didn’t join you. You have to believe in what you do, everything else will come; and you have to do it with dogged persistence. You see, what we are doing tomorrow is something that may be done for the first time in this city. People usually don’t join when you’re doing something that hasn’t been done before and when it is the first time doing it. Sometimes they do join from start, but it is usually that they jump on the band wagon once the new initiative is not new any more. So, whatever happens tomorrow, we forge on,” Jagoda finally ground to a halt.

The power of the passionate talk transformed Tha’s doubts, suspicions and worries into a flutter of angel’s wings on her back, ready to fly.

“Love you grandma,” Tha said acknowledging the seriousness of Jagoda’s words.

“I love tomorrow,” Tha whispered to herself. She stretched her arms reaching high up into the sky and her eyes became full of dreamy sparkles.

V

Saturday was a day with fair weather. It was very warm, but warmth was tempered with a cooling breeze. Jagoda wore a long, cool turquoise cotton dress. Tha was in green baggy pants and white T-shirt. Both of them wore hats. A long day in the sun was in front of them and they planned to stay comfortable and cool. Jagoda attached a compact bike trailer to the back of her bike and they fastened the boxes with apple pies on the trailer. Riding slowly and carefully they tried to avoid bumps and curbs. Tha was riding in front of her grandma. Jagoda was keeping her eye on the trailer by looking at it in the mirror attached to one of her handles, and on Tha. As they approached the magic apple tree, they could see the old lady standing on the lawn. Jagoda waved and the old lady waved back. She was expecting them.

“Hello, Bella,” said Jagoda with a wide smile, and got off the bike wheeling it up to the shady spot at the side of the house.
“Hi Jagoda, what do you carry in so many boxes?” Bella asked.
Jagoda grinned and said with an air of pride, “apple pies made with your most delicious apples.”

“That is great, the pies must be very delicious.”

“We will eat them together and find out,” said Jagoda. “Tha and I had not had any because we decided to wait until everyone arrives.”

“Well, tea and coffee are also ready,” Bella said as they climbed up the stairs going inside the house. “I got up early to cook it in large pots. I will need Tha’s help to take the pots outside to the lawn. I also have two fold-up tables, which are just large enough to hold the coffee and tea pots and one apple pie box at a time.

“Tha, could you please take these tables outside and unfold them. Put them against the house wall so that we have less chance to overturn them,” Bella said.

Tha swiftly took the tables out, unfolded them and secured them against the house wall which was painted in apricot orange. Then she went back in a few times and carried out the pots with coffee and tea. The pots were hot and heavy. Tha strained herself and moved slowly, balancing the splashing fluid inside the pots. The coffee steam was rising up in her face. She never drank coffee, but she liked the aroma. Finally, she moved one of the apple pie boxes to the table.

“Tha, leave the box closed to keep the bees and flies out,” snapped Jagoda. “Let’s take the paper bags from my tote, and start bagging the apples. The bags are large, so filling a third or a half of a bag would be just fine, as long as we can lift it and carry it. We have twenty bags and Bella has some cardboard boxes that we can use. Ima will be here around 1:30PM. She is the woman who offered to transport bags to local shelters and community centres,” Jagoda explained.

When they started picking apples, different people started arriving and joining in. Jagoda greeted them with outgoing enthusiasm, her lips stretching from one ear to the other. She was very happy to see people come. She asked them how they found out about this festival of apples, and they said they saw notices posted at so many places in the neighbourhood that they grew curious and had to come to check it out.

Suddenly there were many women, men and children around the apple tree. There were people of different races, religions and backgrounds. Some women wore long, black outfits while others wore colourful, light wraps, while some others wore pants and T-shirts. Some covered their hair while others let their hair loose. The men and children wore shorts and T-shirts. It was a very colourful gathering of people. Coming to this event meant something to them. It touched them and connected to their experiences in meaningful ways.

Some people stayed and helped out for 15 minutes and then left, some stayed longer. But Jagoda made sure they all tried her apple pie and had some tea or coffee before they left. They talked with Jagoda and thanked her for organizing the event. In return, Jagoda said she could not thank them enough for coming. She claimed it was their presence that made her day and made this event into what it was - a very beautiful communal gathering.

By two o’clock, most apples were bagged. Around twenty bags were waiting to be loaded into Ima’s car. Jagoda was thankful that men took upon themselves to carry the bags into the car. Being stacked onto each other all bags fit into the trunk of the car and the back seat. Ima and Jagoda jumped in the car. Through an open window, Jagoda shouted to Tha, “Cut the rest of the apple pies and help with dishes. I’ll be back in about an hour. If you need something, talk to Bella.” She winked at Tha and the car drove off.

On the previous night, Jagoda asked Tha to leaf through the phone book and find and write down exact addresses of the community centres in the area. With this list and her familiarity with women’s shelters in some of which she facilitated a very popular art drop-in, Jagoda knew where to deliver the bags of apples. As to the men’s shelters, she said she would inquire on the way.

Ima had long experience driving in the area. Together they were a well prepared team. They delivered apples to about seventeen places. The three left over bags were for Ima, Bella and Jagoda.

After hard work, people were sitting in the shade under the tree, eating the apple pies and sipping tea and coffee. They praised the pie saying it was different from the apple pies they ate before. Tha smiled gleefully. She had her fill of the apple pie and other children asked for more. Thankfully, her grandma baked enough for everyone. Uninformed passers-by thought this was a picnic.

After a brief rest, Tha went inside Bella’s kitchen and started washing plates and cups. She hoped to take the fold-up tables in before her grandma’s return. It was a full day of work and her grandma needed her afternoon nap.

Tha herself was overwhelmed with the experience of communal apple picking festival. She marveled at how much people could do when they came together. Bella’s lawn was all grass. No apple was left behind. The sagging branches sprang back to the skies when the heavy fruit was picked. Younger men volunteered to shake the tree and also climbed up the tree. Little boys and girls wanted to try climbing but their moms didn’t allow it.

Bella was very happy that apples were gone because she said she could not pick them herself. To no avail, she said she asked her own sons and daughters to come with their own families and enjoy picking apples. They, however, rarely came, and when they did come, they didn’t care about apples. The old woman’s soul broke over apples rotting on the street, but she felt helpless. It was very good that the apples on the lawn were rotting and feeding back the tree roots, but those apples on the street being trodden over made old woman shake her head.

“It was so difficult for me to know that there were so many hungry and sick people in this city while all these apples were going to waste. I thank Lord for your grandma’s imaginative and most helpful action.”

As Tha listened, she started to feel the pain of Bella’s story in her own stomach. Tha didn’t know what to say and she was startled by her ability to experience someone else’s pain in her own body.

Tha and Bella heard the car arrive and its doors slam. A few short moments later, they heard Ima and grandma calling out while climbing up Bella’s stairs. Tha ran out and gave her grandma a big hug.

“How did it go?” Tha asked, “did you deliver it all to different places? Did people take it?”

“Yes Tha, they were really surprised when I told them how people came together to make all this possible. Without Ima, I don’t know what we would do with all the bags. Thank you Ima.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Ima, “I would do it again. Is this the only fruit picking festival you’re organizing this year?” Ima asked.

“It seems to be .. at least for now,” Jagoda giggled. She thanked Bella and Ima again. They thanked her too. It was time to go home. Tha and Jagoda were both very exhausted and needed some rest. Ima helped Jagoda carry a bag with apples over from the car to the bike trailer. Once the bag was secured on the trailer, Jagoda and Tha got on and rode home. As the bike rolled off the lawn and onto the street, Jagoda honked her bike siren, waved to Ima and Bella and yelled “Keep in touch…”


VI

When they arrived home, Jagoda was hungry so she said she would make her special soup. She called it hot and sour soup.

“It is impossible to eat hot soup after a day in the hot sun in the middle of the summer,” protested Tha.

Jagoda didn’t mind Tha’s words. She was busy mixing spices, chopping three different types of fresh hot peppers, garlic and grating ginger. She poured water and orange lentils in the pot, added choped black kale, spices, apple cider vinegar and a can of Pacific wild salmon in the whole mix. Jagoda loved something that tasted hot and sour in the same time. She said she ate these healing soups throughout the year when she felt very exhausted and sick. Today, after the apple picking festival, Jagoda was very happy, but in the same time she was out of breath. She worked without a break for the previous three days to make the event happen. Now, it was time for her famous healing soup.

“If you eat this soup with me,” Jagoda blinked at Tha with a mischievous smile on her face, “ice-cream will taste like never before. Eating ice-cream after a hot and sour soup is a reeaal delight, Tha.”

Tha was surprised, “We still have the ice-cream? I thought it was all gone.”

“Nope,” said Jagoda. My secret stash is still full of your favourite ice-cream.”

“Grandma, it must be a mistake. You must have forgotten that we had eaten it all last week?”

“Nope, and I can prove it to you after we finish eating the soup. Do we have a deal?”

“Grandma,” Tha was squinting at grandma, “does it mean that you bought a tub of ice-cream?”

“Nope, you know I don’t buy such things. I make the best ice-cream in the world, and you know it.”

“Grandma, it can’t be…. you didn’t have the time to make another batch of banana-coconut ice-cream with raisins.”

“You are right, but there was a small leftover bucket in the freezer. I found it last night when I was looking for some of your mom’s frozen sataras.”

“Wow, that’s lucky,” exclaimed Tha.

By now the kitchen smelled of hot peppers and apple cider vinegar. Jagoda chopped some green onions and additional garlic, and sprinkled it on top of Tha’s soup then squeezed in some lemon juice. The soup was deep red colour of melted lentils, and was a powerful punch of hot chilies, habaneros, jalapeños, curry, turmeric, ginger, garlic, lemon juice, apple cider and wild salmon – all the best healing ingredients.

Mmm, Tha did like grandma’s soup. She was to the challenge of swallowing the rich hot and sour liquid. She felt it rolling down her throat and into her stomach where it felt like a ball of fire. Tha sipped it slowly. Eating grandma’s soup was exciting to say the least. But eating sweet and cold ice-cream after the hot and sour soup was something she still had to discover. This contrast in taste, she learned, heightened the sweetness of the ice-cream. Grandma’s home-made ice-cream had no sugar in it, only pureed bananas, raisins and a bit of honey in a base of coconut milk and cream. After learning the gentle taste of her grandma’s ice-cream, Tha had trouble eating ice-creams from the grocery stores. They were too sweet and didn’t taste like real cream and fruit Jagoda churned at home.

After finishing their soup, they left the kitchen and moved to the living room. Tha was melting eating the ice-cream after hot and sour soup. It was suuuupeeeeerliiiiicious.

Grandma enjoyed her ice-cream with a cup of Vietnamese coffee mixed with coconut milk, with her legs resting up on the couch.

“So how did you like your crash course in community organizing,” Jagoda asked?

Tha smiled and with a very bright light on her face she said, “Grandma, I want to become a community organizer when I grow up.”

Jagoda bursted into a silly laughter and then collecting herself she said, “Tha, you don’t need to wait until you grow up to become a community organizer. It is what you do every day. You have to be very attentive to people and the environment around you. You have to have a lot of compassion in your soul, Tha.”

“Hmm…” Tha was nodding looking seriously deep in thoughts.
After a minute of silence, Jagoda’s motors turned on again as she thought of something Tha would have never expected right at that very moment.

“Where are the water colours, brushes and the card paper?” she demanded. Could you please bring them over?”

“Yeah,” said Tha, “but what for?”

“I would like to send out some thank-you cards to Bella, Ima and those places of worship which informed their parishioners about the event, remember? You know I like creating my own thank-you cards, will you help me paint some smiling wild apple trees?”

“Grandma, you know I love painting, especially with water colours. Yeeeaaah, I love water colours, and I love my grandma,” Tha was singing in her hi-pitched voice with excitement.

Tha fetched brushes, blank post cards made of thick watercolour paper and tube watercolours. She brought water in two cups, one for for her grandma and one for herself, and a lot of paper napkins.

Jagoda painted with ease. Every of her strokes turned into meaningful shapes on the paper. She painted an apple tree with lush green leaves and red apples hanging from its branches. She placed the tree in the middle of the card and people of different colours and sizes holding hands and dancing around the tree. The tree was on a flowery meadow and the sun was shining down. On another card, she painted a beautiful apple tree on a meadow with a rainbow squeezed in between the sun and rainy clouds. Her cards varied in details, but the message she wrote was the same:

Thank you.
You have made a huge difference in the lives of many. Keep in touch.
Jagoda and Tha

Tha painted as well, but her main task was to write this note on each of the painted cards. When the paint was dry, she wrote with a black fine point pen, “Thank You,” on the painted side of the card and the rest, she printed on the inside of the card.

Her painstakingly printed messages were neat. Tha also had to write addresses on every card. It was a lot of work for her and she had to focus.
The black ink of the pen she used stood in contrast to the painted background.

“It’s so easy to make beautiful things,” Tha said.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jagoda smiled. “Let’s go to the post office and mail the cards to all the lovely people who participated in the apple picking festival.”

On their way to the post office Jagoda talked about relationships, and Tha listened.
“It is important to keep and nurture relationships,” she said. The festival was the result of weaving of relationships among people into a colourful fabric of community spirit. The power people created through communal participation and sharing is not a one-time thing. It is something that lasts forever. It is like seeds growing into plants, and then you have plants growing into bushes. There is this growth of creative possibilities which never stops branching out into new spaces. It is really amazing as to what people together can do for themselves and their community. Remember when I was telling you about fairness and sharing?”

“Yes grandma,” responded Tha to Jagoda’s prodding, “I am getting it, ok!?”
“I am sure you are. I am very proud of you. Now, hurry up or we will be late.”

Thankfully, they arrived to the post office just in time before closing. Jagoda paid for the stamps. Their work was finally over for the day.

They took a long walk back home through narrow side streets inhaling the fragrance of late summer blossoms enchantingly smiling at them from the many gardens they passed by.

Suddenly, they saw lightning and got shaken by the rolling thunders a couple of moments later. It started to rain. Jagoda smiled and stretched her arms up to the sky. Raindrops were falling on her face. “Oh, I love summer rain. I wish it was not acid rain.”

“What is acid rain, ma?” Tha asked.
“The clue word, Jagoda said, “is pollution.”
“Oh yeah,” Tha said, “what pollution goes up in the air, it also comes down with the rain.” “You got it, Tha. Let’s now get out of the acid rain as fast as we can.”
They ran home.

VII

The following morning, Tha got up late. She saw her grandma having her tea and reading newspapers. There was a letter on the table. Tha gave her a kiss and asked who the letter was for.

“It’s a letter of invitation for me to illustrate yet another book. I guess it’s time for me to start packing slowly. It will be September in two weeks, you are going back to school, and I am going back home to my little lodge.”

Tha sighed and wrapped herself tightly around her grandma.

“Grandma, I wish I can go with you. Your life in the lodge is so much better. I would love to spend the fall and the winter with you on the snowy meadow.”
Jagoda looked at Tha with curiously sad eyes, but said nothing. They sat silently.

“Are you reading?” Tha asked.

“Yes I am,” said Jagoda, “are you?”

“Yeah,” said Tha, “it’s time to go to the library and pick up some books. Wanna go together?”

“It will be my pleasure. Go get dressed, have a bite - the tea is waiting for you on the kitchen table - and then we can walk over to the library. We may find on the shelves some books with my illustrations. That will be fun to see.”

Within a split second, Tha was in and out of the shower. She put on a dress Jagoda made for her, and gave her as a gift when she arrived in early June that year. It was a dark green dress in a shape of a bell. Tha wore a white shirt underneath the dress and flip flops on her feet.

She had her toast and tea, brushed her teeth and then went to see what Jagoda was up to in the living room. She was still reading the newspapers and appeared to be deep in thoughts.

“Ready?” asked Jagoda when she noticed Tha standing in the door.
“You look so beautiful. That dress really suits you. It is the colour of your eyes.”

Tha smiled but her impatience was obvious.

“Are you ready?” she said. “You had enough time to get ready!”

“Alright, said Jagoda, “I’m coming. Are you returning your books as well?”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” Tha rushed back to her room to fetch them.

Jagoda put on her flip flops, and opened the front door of the house. The flood of bright sunshine almost blinded her. Tha came back with a tote full of books, and they went on their way to the library.

It was a clear, breezy day after the stormy night. The sun was brilliant, bright but gentle. Trees looked refreshed and tender green. Neighbours’ sunflowers turned their faces up to the sun and the cats stretched on the warm sidewalk.

Tha liked going to the library with her grandma. Jagoda loved exploring books in public libraries, but the children’s picture book section was always her favourite spot. She enjoyed looking at illustrations.

Tha would usually spend time in the middle reader section, looking for books with colourful and attractive jackets, especially those that looked new. At least that’s how she selected her books. She would bring all the nice looking books home and spend some time browsing through each of them until she found a character or a plot she was interested in reading about.

They checked out the books from the library and Jagoda decided to stop by a Korean grocery store to buy some glass noodles. It was further up the street from the library and in the opposite direction from their home. Tha rarely walked up this street so her attention was drawn to all the gardens in front of people’s houses. Trees from both sides of the road arched towards each other and created what looked like a green cool tunnel.

Tha was looking at the trees, when she noticed two plum trees across the street. It was visible because there were a lot of squashed plums on the sidewalk and the road.

“Look,” she shouted in excitement, “grandma, look at the plum trees.”

Jagoda was taken by surprise. All she said was, “Wow!”

She stopped and looked at the trees in disbelief.

“This is amazing, but look how much is going to waste. No one is picking these fruits!” Jagoda voiced her exasperation.

On the way back from the Korean store, they stopped by the plum trees and picked as many plums as they could. Jagoda had a spare bag and it filled quickly.

“These make me think of making some jam for the winter. I mean, aren’t these people preparing their condiments for the winter? Now it’s the time to do it, ” Jagoda still vented.

“Grandma, can we organize a plum picking festival?” Tha asked expectantly.

“You know that I’ll be leaving soon, but you yourself could organize it without me, couldn’t you?” Jagoda asked and in the same time nodded her head as if wanting to encourage Tha to seriously think about it.

“I can think about it,” Tha said.

“You should, Jagoda pressed on, “ I will definitely be interested in hearing your ideas. Tell me what you want to do; why you want to do it; and how. You know before you do something, you have to dream it into existence. You have to have a clear vision. This is very serious work. Not easy at all.”

“You really think that I can do something as important as that from scratch?”

“Tha, yes you can!”

Jagoda gave Tha some food for thought to chew on. It was challenging, but that’s exactly why Tha liked it. It was different from projects she did at school. Much different, and real too.

Tha didn’t waste time. Taking her grandma’s words literally, she departed in a different world. Her daydreaming went on for days. She was thinking, visualizing, talking to herself, dreaming – dreaming her vision of organizing a plum picking festival into existence.

Jagoda didn’t interfere. She acted as if they never had the conversation about the Tha’s organizing vision. Tha had all the time in the world in those two, three weeks before school. She spent a lot of time sleeping, and she spent long time in the garden in their backyard under the old maple tree. She spent her days in silence filled with bird song. At some occasions she was deep in thoughts, at others she had nothing on her mind. Her thoughts were blank. This would scare her and she would start to pray.

One morning, Tha sat next to her grandma on the couch in the living room.

“I need to tell you something,” she said. “Do you remember the day when we saw the plum trees up the street from the library? Remember, I said I would think about what could be done with the plums that were going to waste because no one picked them.”

Jagoda leaned closer to Tha looking straight into her deep green eyes, and said, “Tell me. I am all ears.”

“In my classroom, there are children who come to school hungry. The school does not have any kind of food program or a cafeteria. There are only vending machines selling pop soda and chips. I myself sometimes go hungry because it is too much work to prepare lunch every day Monday to Friday, and there is nothing wholesome to find at school. You know mom is always busy and away working. I was thinking that those plums could help my classroom get through the fall in terms of nourishment. What do you think, grandma?”

Jagoda looked worried. She didn’t answer Tha’s question right away, but she stepped on a roundabout path of inquiry.

“You never told me about this before,” she said, “the junk food vending machines and children being hungry in your school. Why did you not speak about it before and why are you telling me about it now? Tell me what stirred you?”

Avoiding Jagoda’s questions, Tha herself asked questions.

“Grandma,” she said, “is it normal that children come to school hungry?”

“You know answer to that question Tha, why do you need to ask me?”

“No grandma, no one should be hungry and especially not the children who spend long hours learning in school.”

“That’s right Tha, but you are saying that this had been the experience of some students in your classroom or school for some time now, right?” added Jagoda with frowns appearing on her forehead, “and you had remained silent all along. I want to know why be silent in the face of something you know is wrong, why Tha?” Jagoda asked calmly and slowly.

As if the fluttering of birds’ wings stopped in the middle of its flight, Jagoda’s sudden calmness disturbed Tha.

“Well, no one ever said anything… ” said Tha staring in her grandma’s face which was turning stone cold.

“You didn’t say anything because no one said anything, so what was wrong in the first place became normal. As a result, there was no need to speak up, is that it Tha?” Jagoda pressed with her uncomfortably escalating questions.

Tha fell silent. She started to feel heat radiating from her stomach up into her chest and face. Her ears and cheeks became red.

“So you are saying that you cannot think on your own and that you can do nothing but go along with the norms of a group you happen to be part of? Group pressure must be very scary, and speaking up when no one does very hard, eh Tha? Do you think that you should show indifference when things are wrong…. because everyone else turns a blind eye?” Jagoda was not giving up with her questions.

“Grandma,” Tha was dodging Jagoda’s questions again, “but when children in the classroom are hungry, isn’t that something that their own families should take care of?”

Jagoda was glad that Tha spoke inspite of her red cheeks, and asked her to remember the story about the bucket with golden coins.

“Do you remember why many people had very little or nothing to live on once the golden coins were distributed in unfair way,” she asked?

“Because few people took more than they needed, others didn’t have enough,” said Tha.

“Right!” exclaimed Jagoda. “Now that we know where the problem lies, who exactly should take care of it?”

A period of silence ensued.

“We are not on our own,” Jagoda continued gently. “We are not isolated. We are all part of the same bucket, so someone’s lack of golden coins is not their own personal problem. What is the root cause of that lack of coins? Why are the coins lacking? Whose problem is it? What is the problem, after all!?” “Dear Tha,” Jagoda continued, “you have to speak up when you see that things are wrong; when you see that people are harmed. You have to be aware that we are all connected, so people suffer when others take more than their share. We cannot be silent when we see this.”

Jagoda hugged her granddaughter with passionate care. They remained in tight embrace as if the grip would cork the pain in their grief stricken souls.

Slowly, Tha looked through teary glimmer in her eyes into grandma’s.

“Ma… what can I do to bring those plums to my classroom?” Tha asked.

“Well,” Jagoda said, “you have had some time to think about it. Now it is time to put your thoughts into practice. Thinking and doing should go together. Your action will help you revise your thoughts later on.”

“I cannot exactly tell you what to do," continued Jagoda. "All I know Tha is that it is your turn to tell a story in both words and actions.”