The lost apple book
Have you noticed how apples are the official fruit of children’s literature? Sure, pears, peaches and strawberries sometimes slip in, but A is for Apple and that’s where it all starts.
When I was a child I had a favourite apple book. It’s gone now. It was about a family whose apple tree bore too much fruit. They stored it in boxes, in cupboards, under their beds, in their wardrobes. They filled bedrooms up with apples. Apples rolled between their feet wherever they walked. They made apple sauces and apple crumbles, waldorf salads and toffee apples. The family had to give away trucks full of apples to people, to animals, to fish. I can’t remember its title, but I do remember the joy I felt in reading the book. The world was so bright and full of plenty. The family was so joyful. I asked my mother to read it over and over, and she obliged, loving the book almost as much as I did. Do you know what book I’m talking about? I wish I could find it again.