“Stop!” My grandfather said. “I want you to do me a favor before I’m gone”.

“What, what is it?” I asked with courage and fear flowing off my dry tongue.

“Do me a favor by planting this seed for me,” as my grandfather verbalized with his last dying breath.

I put forth my hands and a seed plopped into my palms. His hands clammy from his demise illness; I held onto them, for he is now at peace. I slowly released my grasp from his dead, cold hands; I look upon my other palm to notice that it was an apple seed.

Now in the car driving back home and still observing the simple, plain seed that my grandfather bestowed upon me; I couldn’t decipher the exact reason why he gave me such a simple item for myself to keep in my possession. Looking away from the deathly, black seed, I look outward, observe the lightning as it fiercely strikes the ground. “Finally,” I uttered under my breath as we slowly pulled into our driveway. I opened, then slammed the door as quickly as possible and ran straight towards my room, and wept. Depressed and full of rage, I took the seed with a firm grip and said “I-never-want-to-see-you-again,” as I threw it out the window as hard as possible, and watched it fade away behind the screen of rain. Sluggishly moving towards my bed, I fell upon it and let my dreams take me to paradise to pacify my mind.


Waking up the next morning hoping everything the previous day was just an illusion. Walking to my window, I caught the image of a sapling growing in my back yard where I threw
the seed yesterday. Without changing into any fresh clothing, I flew down the corridor, out the door, and into the backyard where the seed has sprouted. “Remarkable” I said with an enthusiastic tone; “how did that happen?” I asked myself, taking a long gaze at the specimen.

Years have come and gone, and now I am a teenager. Looking back how far the sapling has grown evermore since I threw it out of my window. Still a little tree and nice juicy apples to come, it will now survive without me taking lots of care for it. Excited for the future of the apple tree, I come down into the backyard everyday to see how the tree has been doing. Getting up at six-o-clock ever morning to water and nourish my safe heaven. Yet again, many more years have passed, and now my tree has ripened fruit on it. The apple tree is now fifteen time its original size since I was young. As I look back throughout my life, this simple tree resembles my life in many ways: one, I started out as a little specimen as my own, joining the new world. The second reason is that it has grown to be nourished and taken care of as well as being mature through the last twenty years.

Finally, I am old and weak; my apple tree has fully grown and is able to withstand many more generations to come, after my spirit has left this world. I had my own children, and my children had their own children. As I would say, my grandchildren are the finest apples on the tree; my children are the branches that support my apples. The trunk of the tree is my family joined together to support one another. Finally, the roots of this magnificent tree are my grandfather. He is the one that supported us all, especially me, and this tree wouldn’t be there if I wasn’t there for him.