My Parents’ Pears
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Home Sweet Home
By Shirley P. Gumert

It is difficult to realize how great a part of all that is cheerful and delightful in the recollections of our own life is associated with trees.
~Wilson Flagg

I did not know what to expect when I knocked on the door of the house my parents had built in 1948. The door, now bright green, had a new brass knocker, although the old brass keyhole and doorknob were the original ones I remembered. This was no longer my home. I was just passing through town.

When a young man opened the door, I blurted out, “My mother and father built this house. It was their home for many years and mine when I was young. May I please have some of those pears on the ground and hanging heavy on the branches? My dad planted those trees — ”

“Do you want a sack or a basket?” laughed the young man. “Take all you want. I’m a history major at the college here. My parents own the house. They were renting it, but now they let me live here. I’d like to know about the house.” (Keep reading)