Poetry. Art. "When our daughter Natalie was two years old, she had already divided stories into two categories. Before bedtime, she would ask me to tell her either a real-life story or one from my imagination. This one is a true story. Jerzy and I were both studying creative writing when his mentor asked him to write a long poem. After giving it some thought, Jerzy decided to write about a special pear tree in his family garden. Jerzy grew up in communist Poland, the youngest of five children. His father repaired railroad equipment, while his mother stayed at home to care for the family. She also did piece work at home as a seamstress. The family had a large garden plot, at some distance from the family home, provided by the railroad company, like the families of other workers who lived in the city. This garden was an important source of food for the family, providing various fruits and vegetables: apples, cherries, currants, gooseberries, pears and plums, as well as beets, carrots, green beans, onions, parsley and potatoes. There were also many beautiful flowers, which were often cut, to decorate the family home. Of everything that thrived in the garden, the one commodity that was sold to others was the pears from the one special tree. These were suitable for sale outside the family because of their flavor and desirability. The money from the sale of these pears was used to buy shoes and clothing, as well as other necessities for the winter season. The abundant pears from the majestic tree were also shared with many neighbors. It was truly a grand tree, towering over others in the area, and no other tree produced such special fruit. As the children grew up, they helped tend the gardens: planting, watering, pruning, weeding and harvesting. Because the garden work took time away from playing with other children, they often resented it. One day Jerzy was talking by phone with his mother, still in Poland, and told her about the poem he had written. She was very happy about it but told him that the gardens no longer existed, having been built over by apartment buildings. It made Jerzy sad, in particular, to think that the special pear tree was gone. It was almost as if he had lost a member of the family. Soon after this conversation, Jerzy received a letter from his mother, describing a visit she had made to the place of the former garden, where modern, colorful rows of buildings now stood, occupied by young families. In the midst of this new construction, she spotted a tree with a sandbox beneath it, where children were playing. She recognized it as the special pear tree. Remarkably, it was still bearing fruit, which the local children were enjoying. When we next visited our families in Poland, we eagerly went to see the pear tree. As Jerzy hugged the tree, I took a photo. We tasted the pears that fell onto the ground before birds ate them. Their sweetness is still on our tongues."--Aniela Gregorek