The Orange Grove

In a field of silk-soft grass, in the dazzling, sunny state of California was an orange grove. A forest of emerald green trees grew full with many leaves adorning their towering branches of deep brown. Many of the trees flowered, the scent of the perfumed blossoms filling the air like sweet honey on toast. One tree, however, and only one bore any fruit. In the area surrounding, the smell of the plump, round, bright-colored fruit permeated the air, overpowering even the hundreds of blooming trees around it. It was a delicious scent of ripe citrus that could make mouths water.

This tree, knowing fully well that it was the only fruit-bearer in the forest of orange trees (for it was a very well-informed tree), loved to show off its beautiful, stout, sweet-tasting oranges to the others, often proclaiming. "See my gorgeous oranges and feel the round smoothness of their skin, soft to the touch! Smell their wonderful citrus scent and oh, how it makes mouths water! How charming they are, bright with the color of ripe pumpkins in October when our seasons have long since passed!"

The surrounding trees who could hear such professions had once praised and admired the round, juicy, tart-flavored fruit, but as seasons passed and years came and went, they grew tired and annoyed.

Time went on, and summer turned to fall, fall faded to winter, and winter finally changed to spring. As usual, all the trees bloomed once again, and the wait was on for the first orange. After all, it would not be too long before the obnoxiously handsome orange tree began spouting his proud mouth off again. But as time drew on and orange season came, it was only the orange tree who did not benefit from the glorious California sun. All the trees excluding itself had sprouted oranges for the first time in years.

"It is fate," said the tree nearest the arrogant orange tree, "for you have tormented us with your massive, luscious fruit for many a year. This is the punishment cast upon you by Lady Fate for your haughtiness."

And since the other tree had spoken to the self-centered and now sullen orange tree, it prayed for many seasons an apology, hoping to once again bear the fruit it once had, though it was to no avail.