definition essay

Best wishes,

Saligrama K. Aithal

Good Tree, Good Fruit

Saligrama K. Aithal

My granddaughter Riyana, 5 years, has been my philosopher and friend since her birth. This may not surprise those who are familiar with poet Wordsworth’s observation “The Child is the Father of Man” and his words of exhortation “Mighty Prophet! Seer Bless’t”

One day she came to my study to play. I had on my table the motto of my school on a tablet: “Good Tree, Good Fruit.”

The tablet had been there for some time, but having learnt to read, she read the words and asked me, “Gran’pa, what do the words mean?”

“You can very well understand their meaning, Riyana,” I said, smilingly. “Tell me what do you understand by those words?”

“Well, good trees like apples and oranges bear good fruit, fruit good to eat,” she said.

“You got it!” Gran’pa said.

After a pause, Riyana asked Gran’pa, “Are there trees, I mean bad trees, which bear bad fruit, not good to eat?”

It was Gran’pa’s turn to take a pause.

Riyana quickly went out and came back with a book published by National Geographic Society. It was a children’s book full of pictures of trees, all kinds of trees.

“Gran’pa, will you please show me the pictures of bad trees in the book?” she asked, making me speechless for a moment. She added, “They all look good and beautiful to me.”

Gran’pa slowly recovered from his muteness, and said still searching for words, “You are right. They are all good, good trees indeed! I don’t see pictures of any bad trees here in the book.”

Not satisfied with the discussion, Riyana re-read the words, re-read to herself: “Good Tree, Good Fruit.”

Gran’pa tried to give Riyana an explanation for the words she can understand, although not being a theologian he was out of his depths on the subject.

“It is like this,” he spoke haltingly. “Good Tree here doesn’t refer here to this tree or that tree. If I am talking to you, for example, I may draw your attention to something with which you are familiar, close.”

“Knowledgeable,” Riyana added.

“Yes,” Gran’pa said. “You know good many things about a tree--it draws water and nutrients from the earth, carbon dioxide from the air, and sunlight from the sky…”

“The food it needs through…”

“The process of photosynthesis,” Gran’pa added.

“So everything the tree needs is out there,” Riyana added.

“You hit the nail on the head,” Gran’pa said and was about to continue.

“Gran’pa what does that mean—hit nail on the head?”

“You guessed correctly,” Gran’pa continued, inspired. “Everything is out there. But the tree has to make an effort to get them—grow roots in the ground far and wide, lean this way and that way to catch all the sun it can, stretch and and grow many branches and leaves.”

“How wonderful to know what efforts trees make!” Riyana exclaimed.

“How dumb we are to think that trees stand still!” Gran’pa said with regret.

Gran’pa then took a final leap. “Likewise the tree, we have to draw from the storehouse of wisdom left to us by God’s messengers, stretch and flex to assimilate it, and, like the trees that provide humans, birds, and animals their sustenance, follow the path laid down to us to make this life rich and fruitful.”

“Let’s us begin here and now,” Riyana said, looking around Gran’pa’s study. “Why not set your room in order?”

The two got into action—put all the scattered books on the shelves, collected the clothes lying all around and placed them in the closet, cleared the table of all the pens, papers, etc. and transferred them to their assigned trays, and sprayed the room with Nature’s Miracle.

After the crash course in religion, the two filled the room with laughter and joy.