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                                 THE PEACH TREE
                                      By Joe Fossatti

A man was digging a hole in his yard, his neighbor happened by. "What are you digging for," he asked.

"I'm going to plant a peach tree," he replied.

His neighbor looked at the hole; it was hard and rocky soil. "It seems like a lot of work just for some peaches. It's much easier to buy them at the market. Besides, fruit trees take a lot of time; with pruning, feeding, watering, never mind protecting them from the birds, too much work," the neighbor lamented.

The man paused from his work and he wiped his brow.  Leaning on his shovel he said, "Have you ever seen their beautiful pink blossoms in spring after a long cold winter?, And honey bees buzzing from flower to flower gathering its sweet nectar? And when the blossoms fall away, a tiny fruit is left in its place. All though the summer you carefully tend to your tree watering it and watching it grow.'

"And as fall approaches the plump fruits take on the colors of autumn, from gold to red and all the shades in between. The reward for all your hard work comes when its time to pick the fuzzy fruit from the tree that has ripened to its fullest. The taste of its flesh, so sweet and juicy, and to smell the aroma, so rich and fragrant it will fill your head.'

"When the fruit is gone and the air turns cold its golden leaves will have fallen to the ground, I'll look out my window I'll see its bare branches all covered in snow. I'll think of the last summer and look forward to the promise of spring when I and the tree renew old acquaintances again.'       

The man returned to his digging. His neighbor went home to dig himself a hole.