Persimmon story

I really enjoy making up stories on the spot for the girls when something prompts it.

For instance, a neighbor recently shared some persimmons. While the girls were in the bath, I sliced one in half through the middle and found a beautiful sun at the center.

This led to a story: 

It was nearly winter and a little girl wandered through her family’s bare, brown garden, missing all the fruits of summer. She closed her eyes and remembered—strawberries, blueberries, gooseberries, currants. Even the apples were long gone. She felt cold beneath the dark clouds, the garden already asleep for the winter. How she longed for just a tiny bit of sun!

The girl came to a funny little tree. Its leaves had fallen and its branches were bare, but it was covered in fruits—orange, round fruits as bright and cheerful as decorations on a Christmas tree. She snapped off one of the fruits and brought it inside her home, where she sat holding it a long time, just looking it over and savoring how shiny and lovely it was. Finally she started to cut into the fruit. When she pierced it with her knife, a beam of light poured out—a light so bright, the girl had to cover her eyes. After she managed to cut the fruit in half, she saw where the light was coming from. This fruit carried the sun inside it! She tasted it, and it was like tasting the sweetness of summer. It filled her with warmth and sunlight, and from that day forward it was the girl’s favorite fruit: persimmon.

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."—Albert Camus