PEAR-fect Morning

 At 5:30 AM, I felt a little tap on my shoulder. Caity was fully dressed smiling at me. She excitedly whispered, "Time to get up, so we aren't late!" Her anticipation was a sweet wake up call.

Thirty minutes later, we walked the rows of our church's pear orchard with ladders in tow.
We watched the sun rise as we filled our picking-sacks. We got into a rhythm and when eight o'clock rolled around, Caity didn't want to leave.
To be honest, I was not looking forward to this little outing. It seemed exhausting, maybe even monotonous. However, there is something peaceful about working at the pear orchard, I soften and my busy mind rests. Every step I take up the ladder feels lighter. I physically see my surroundings more clearly the higher I go, and in turn; my mental view elevates as well. As I climbed up, then down, then up again; my thoughts meandered through memories of John and my newlywed days working, schooling, and parenting a baby Caity. My current problems and worries didn't feel so heavy in the context of my broadened viewpoint.

One pear at a time we filled our satchels, and one satchel at a time we filled the crates. One crate at a time will load semi-trucks, and one truck at a time will fill a warehouse. A warehouse of pears will become a warehouse of canned pears. Cases of canned pears will be distributed to needs around the world. One can at a time will reach the hands of someone who hopefully feels the love of those who picked the pears months before. Perhaps they will feel the sweet joy eating them that Cate and I felt gathering them.

I picked one pear at a time, but it wasn't lost on me the larger impact a small and simple act will have. What a beautiful metaphor for life.
It was a blessed way to start the day. To share it with Caity made it all the better.