Everyday at school Rachel uncovered the dreaded apple packed neatly at the bottom of her brown paper lunch bag. Everyday, mom’s fruit of choice was an apple. “How boring,” Rachel thought as she tucked yet another apple into the bottom of her locker. Everyday Rachel lied to mom when asked if the apple was eaten.
But today, today was a special day. “We have enough.” Hannah squealed, as the best friends counted the apples and placed them into their backpacks.
The scent of warm, freshly baked pie wafted through the house as the girls gleefully sang Happy Birthday to mom.
100 Words
I, like Rachel, received an apple in my lunch bag everyday. It was what was affordable at a time when we were new immigrants to Canada. And in winter, back in the day there weren’t many options. Agricultural transport was expensive, and exotic fruits and vegetables weren’t prolific, so mom packed us each a sandwich and an apple.
I cherish those memories now, her in her nightgown at 7 am in the kitchen, packing lunches. Me heading out on the walk to school in the biting cold. The memories have all come rolling back, especially these last two months after having lost my beautiful mother.
On her last birthday we sang to mom over her favourite, apple pie. I hate apples!
Thank you for reading. Sorry for my long absence. It hasn’t been a piece of pie.
Friday Fictioneers is a place for flash fiction brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Visit Rochelle’s site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.
Life with Alegria 
First let me offer sincere condolences for the passing of your mother. Reading your story brought happiness but learning of her passing a sadness that she is gone. {{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}
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Thank you so much Ms. Jadeli. That means a lot. I welcome your warm hugs!
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You’re very welcome.
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I’m glad those apples went to use. At my school unwanted apples usually ended up in a food fight. Stomping on them made then messy. 😀
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Haha yes, those cafeteria food fight days must have been fun. We only had one at my school and it was thoroughly enjoyable, 🙂
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Sweet story 🙂
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Thank you Iain.
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Poignant tale.
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Thanks Indra!
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So sorry for your loss. Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman who gave you lots of happy memories and cherished you immensely. The story brings that out so abundantly.
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Thank you so much Dora. Your kind words mean a lot.
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Dear Shelley,
I like apples but they don’t seem to like me. Sweet story. I’m glad the apples held up long enough in her locker to be made into a pie.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thankfully apples can last a long time, especially if kept cool. Thankfully, for others, not me. 😆
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your story became more poignant knowing your mom had passed away. my deepest sympathy.
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Thanks very much! I appreciate your kind words.
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A beautiful tale, here. Reminded me of the very few apples I got as a child. We got a candy apple at school for Halloween lunch. I do remember that. I helped my Aunt Margaret make applesauce every fall. For two weeks, it was nothing but applesauce and apple butter, and apple pies to freeze for November orders. Funny, though, I never ate them. You didn’t eat your profit. Times were hard then, too. The sale of the product would fill the propane tank for winter. My two weeks there were hard work, then back home to school and dreadful poverty. Still can’t eat an apple, sauce, or butter without remembering slaving in that hot kitchen.
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Thank you Bear for reading and for sharing your experience. Difficult for you at a young age for sure, yet you seem to accept it as part of who you are. How beautiful! We are simply our experiences and what we make of them.
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I did enjoy time on the farm with aunt Margaret for sure. For me, it was getting out of town,being where other kids didn’t torment me, and where I didn’t need to fear abuse or starvation. So, yes, very good meme.
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Thankfully you had an escape. Though two weeks of extreme work doesn’t seem like a good enough escape. I’m sorry you experienced all you did when you were young. I hope things improved and you are in a much better place now.
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I am.
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