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Life
A Tree Grows in Grief
Why I’m planting a cherry tree today
I loved A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. I think every girl in my sixth grade read it at about the same time.
If you haven’t read it, it’s a coming-of-age story about a young girl, Francie. The tree persists even though it’s growing in a tough environment. The same is true for Francie.
My sister, Tracey, and I grew up in a very different place than Francie did. Instead of Brooklyn, our formative years were in a trailer in a tiny town of 200.
Though the trailer was small, our yard was big.
One of the best parts was the big Montmorency cherry tree in the backyard.
Around the end of June every year, Tracey and I would drag ladders out to the backyard and we’d spend all day picking. It was hot work. We sometimes wore our bathing suits.
After filling our buckets, we’d spend all afternoon pitting. We’d push our thumbnail into the cherry to split it, and then scrape away the pit. It wouldn’t take long before the skin under our thumbnails would hurt from the tart cherry juice, and our nails would discolor.
We didn’t care. Those perfectly round, perfectly red cherries were worth it. We’d typically end up…
