THE STORY OF THE PECANS
by James Daron Starr
I remember at time, in my childhood; when, my grandmother had sent me out into the pasture to pick up pecans before the rows of pecan trees. I went out, determined to finish the task quickly, with a 5-gallon container in hand, and began sweeping up all the pecans, until the bucket was full.
I dragged the heavy container to the back porch, sweaty and a bit tired, reasoning that the task was completed; but, I saw that look in her eyes. It was that smile of hers, as she handed me yet another container, glancing back to the pasture, by the kind and sweet gesture of just her eyes alone, without saying a word. So, once again, I ventured off to fill yet another container with pecans.
I returned, exhausted; but, confident that the task was finally completed; and, so, then she helped me bring the containers inside, and I sat down at the kitchen table, drinking a lemonade she had already prepared. Once finished, I could hear her call out, Jaime! Come on son!
There she was, sitting in her recliner, cracking pecan shells as she emptied them into a large bucket before her. She looked at the second bucket and smiled. Sitting down on the floor beside her, we, together, began to fill the large bucket, as we watched Matlock and Heehaw on her B&W TV. We laughed, enjoying the time, and one by one, the pecans rose within the bucket.
It was done, I thought, as I got up to go play; instead, I was ushered into the kitchen, as she began to direct me to get this and that, and I frowned, looking at her, as if to ask why. But she kept smiling, humming her hymns; and, kept doing, whatever she was doing, grinding those graham crackers, fiddling with the butter and sugar, stirring at the stove. Asking ever so often, along the way, grandma are we done yet?
She placed, whatever she was doing, into the oven, and gracefully placed her kind hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes, she said, go play; but, be back by dinner, and be sure to wash your hands and face when you do. I was relieved, shouting finally; and, quickly I ran out that back porch and off into the adventure of the woods!
I came home, exhausted, after the long adventure of exploring the woods and the friends whom I found along the way. I almost sat down, but quickly remembered her smiles, and trotted off to wash my hands and face, and returned to the table and sat down for dinner.
We ate, and talked some, and as we finished eating, my grandma looked at the table, with a slight nod; for, I was getting up to go play within my room. I knew that look, and we began cleaning up the table, going back and forth from the table and sink. It was that last trip to the table, when I noticed something different, a stack of clean dishes, forks, and a pie sitting at the center of the kitchen table.
She sat down, with a grin on her face, from ear-to-ear, she began slicing pieces of pecan pie, as she placed them on the plates before me. She called out to my grandfather, Jimmy! Grumbled and shifting in his chair in their bedroom, he replied, what is it sugar bear, I’m reading the newspaper.
Yet, as soon as she pronounced the first syllable of pecan, I could hear him dropping his newspaper yelping oh, as I could hear him snickering along the way in excitement. It was in that moment, I understood, it all came together, what she had taught me that day.
What did you learn?
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