"Pick a Word, Paint a Story #07"

# "The Orange Tree's Trial"

When I was quite younger, our compound had three orange trees which provided us with orange fruits in and out of season. The oranges were blessed with sweet juices and brought us pride and good compliments whenever we offered them to people.

In fact, people showed up every season to buy oranges from the tree for sale and, as such, it brought us so much profit.

One of the dry seasons, I noticed one of the trees looked dry and lifeless, much like the one in the picture above. Its branches were dried up and started breaking off, its leaves had all fallen off, and it seemed frail as though it would soon be used for firewood, and its end had finally come.

I watched the tree for days, perplexed and lost with thoughts. One of the days as the family sat outside the compound to ease off the hot days, I turned to my grandmother, a woman full of wisdom, and finally asked her out of genuine concern, “Mama, does this mean the orange tree that gave us so much fruit is finally dead?”

She chuckled softly, giving out her fine set of dimples and her beautiful face, lined with some wrinkles, showing that she had lived for a while and that she was wiser than I was. “No, my dear,” she said. “The tree is not declared dead for now it is only passing through a phase of judgment. If it wins this trial, it will return even stronger and more fruitful. But if it fails, then it will die", using the Ibibio dialect, she said that the tree "aka Ukan" literally means being judged.

Her words sparked curiosity, fear and hope in me. I prayed silently for the tree. (I don't know why, but I just did) I kept my fingers crossed as I watched out for the tree with great attention.

Day after day, I would look at its withered and frailed branches. Weeks turned into months, yet there was no green sprout signifying life. Still, Granny's words kept ringing in my memory, and it gave me a bit of faith.

Then one morning, as I was passing to school, I saw a miracle; tiny green shoots had begun to sprout. Over the next few weeks, the tree flourished, bringing out more beautiful leaves than I had ever seen before, and this happened even before the dry season came to an end. Thrilled, I ran to my grandmother and exclaimed, “Look, Mama. The orange tree is back, it has passed its test, and it is alive again!” (all in my native dialect).

As if expecting it already, she smiled and replied, “I told you, didn’t I? It was just a phase of judgment. The tree has endured and is victorious. That’s why it’s back, more fruitful than ever.”

As I think about it today, the orange tree was a symbol of resilience for me. It shows me that life often tests us through some wonderful seasons of trials. But if we endure and not give up adding faith, we can also emerge victorious and be more fruitful than before.

Meanwhile, I tried to look up the real meaning surrounding this African myth and I learned it is called "abscission".

Thank you, @senehasa, for allowing me to make a choice even as I choose to write about trees.

I invite @bluelavender @eveetim @tripple-e to have fun while writing.