1. The achievement of something desired or worked for. 2. The condition of bearing fruit.
Once there was a man who lived by a field in the hills that head towards a massive mountain. He lived with his dogs and cats. The garden he tended was often visited by deer and elk from the nearby woods. They would choose among all kinds of fresh vegetables and fruits for every season.
He was a good man with a nice home but he wanted more. He wanted to be a father. At one time he had met a beautiful woman. They had had a passion and they thought they would have a baby. But the baby knew it was not a true love - so it returned to the land of baby angels leaving the man and woman alone with lost wishes. Soon thereafter she left him. He stayed home long hours working in the garden.
One cold day in the winter, on a whimsy, he ordered some exotic plants from a faraway store to mail him. They were called “hearty kiwi”. Smaller, smoother and tougher than their cousins from New Zealand, they were said to survive a mountain winter. Time would tell.
Three wisps arrived in a little box; one male, two female. Just shoots with a single leaf apiece was all there was to start so, each was placed in a tiny pot. They grew. So, he placed them in bigger pots until they were tall enough and strong enough to live by the fence at the side of the garden. Years passed. Seasons came and went. To his surprise the little shoots became handsome vines and spread along the fence. They were comely and colorful bushes yet they bore no fruit. Not even one small piece.
As the fence sagged with the growing weight of the vines the man tilled and weeded, sowed and reaped. He tried to forget the lovely woman and the child they never had. While his hands were busy his heart was heavy. Though being a clever fellow he knew to keep his eye peeled for his future mate, which he did.
Time and patience rewarded his efforts. He met a woman at a dance. They danced and walked and talked. He wrote to her. Then they met again. He knew he felt comfortable with her yet he could not say why. They made many meals together and he invited her to chase the weeds away from the flower beds and gather the food as it ripened.
After a time they decided to stay together to make a life in the house by the field with the gardens. They talked and worked. They laughed and they loved and made a beautiful child. One summer a baby boy came into their life. They rejoiced by spending their time with him and continuing to care for each other.
As they worked in the garden they admired the kiwi vines- now a leafy palace over the tired old fence whose posts had finally laid down to rot. Stepping through the wire, pushing aside yellow leaves to inspect the damage they were delighted to discover kiwis just larger than grapes dangling in bunches, many bunches.
After the first frost they were soft and sweet. So she picked them in the Autumn harvest . She smiled and sang to the baby in the barrow as the firm green fruits resounded, “Kerplink! kerplot!” in the bucket. All the while it seemed the garden itself was celebrating the new family by offering this abundant gift of long awaited fruit.
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