The Peach Tree
When I was just a girl, I used to lie beneath the peach tree in my grandfathers back yard. There would grow huge and ripe peaches when the spring frost did not kill the flowering buds. The braches were somewhat low and provided shading from the sweltering sun. The fruits were fragrant although always out of my reach. I was told I was never allowed to climb the tree; my grandfather feared that I would fall; being so petite a fall would kill me. So as hard as I tried I could never reach the peach clusters on the highest branches, I would stretch my arms as high as they could go and my fingertips would brush against the so