I almost had it removed once because looking at it hurt too much.
Then, one spring, it bloomed.
The following fall, it gave me more than a dozen apples.
I counted every one.
By the time the tree matured, it produced more fruit than I could ever use.
I made pies, applesauce, and cider.
I filled paper bags for neighbors and took boxes to work.
Children from the street would knock and ask if they could pick one.
I always said yes.
The tree became part of the neighborhood.
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