Life And Plum Trees

Growing up in a military household one learns early that family is one of the most important factors in our lives. My father was a career service man (Army) and my family made several major moves during my youth. Our somewhat transient lifestyle lent itself to our becoming a rather close-knit bunch. As a child living in those circumstances one learns very early on that their immediate family is just about the only constant in their life.

See, I come from a large family. I am the fourth child and second daughter of six children: three sons and three daughters. There was never a time when I felt lonely or displaced. No matter where we moved, I always knew there would be at least one familiar face at our new school and another on the playground. I give my parents credit for making us feel that no matter where we were, if our family was together we were at home. My parents both grew up in rural Louisiana. Their children were born and raised from anchorage, Alaska to Panama in the Canal Zone.

        As a young African American couple raising a family in the south during the sixties, my parents managed somehow to make it all seem effortless: raising and providing for a large family and relocating several times. I have to say that they were ahead of their time. My mother has worked outside of the home for as long as I can remember. She and my father both were always very active in all of our youthful endeavors; from coaching little league and serving as officers on the board of the American Youth Association, to chaperoning field trips.

        Back in Alabama, the two of them would toil in their vegetable garden in the summer and we would all help with picking and cleaning greens, or snapping peas, etc. One year when my daddy was clearing land for the garden my brother and I complained that he was killing the plum trees. He let us pick a couple of small trees to move up into the yard closer to our house. He told us we would have to water and nurture them until they were strong enough to grow on their own.

We started out diligently watering our little trees each day, watching to see that they were striving and looking for fruit to appear. Soon we became disinterested in watching trees grow and would forget to water them. One hot afternoon during a dry spell, my daddy called us around back. He asked us what happened to our trees. We had not even noticed they were dying. Daddy explained to us that we had taken on the responsibility of these two trees and we could not turn our backs on them because they did not bear fruit as soon as we would have liked. He assured us that if we took good care of our trees they would eventually grow strong enough to strive on their own and give us plums sweeter than any we could find in the woods or even at the grocery store.

So we resumed caring for our trees. They did not bear fruit that first year but the next year we did have the best plums around. Daddy was right! Those plums tasted that much better because we knew our efforts had enabled those trees to grow and produce.

        The experience with the fruit trees is just one example of my parent’s many life lessons that I find myself referring to as I raise five sons of my own. I often ask how my parents were able to make it all seem so easy. My mother explained to me that it was never easy. “You just get your priorities in order, get up and do what you have to do and don’t sweat the small stuff. The most important thing you can remember each morning is: if you wake up, it’s a good day.” It took me a while, but today I kind of think I get the message. 

Darlene Pryor