Peeling Apples with Uncle Charlie: A Lesson in Patience and Love

A central figure in my husband's life was his Uncle Charlie. He was a retired farmer. He and his wife, Aunt Elsie, lived near Gary, his parents, and his sister. Friends and family often gathered at his home and enjoyed warm, easy-going, fussy hospitality. Everyone squeezed into the small rectangular sunroom, sitting on a green floral couch, stools, or wood chairs brought in from the kitchen table. 

Uncle Charlie sat on one end of the couch behind a large basket of apples he picked from his two apple trees in the backyard. As everyone chatted, he asked Gary to serve the apples individually as he painstakingly peeled each with a sharp paring knife. 

One by one, Gary would pass out the apples neatly centered on napkins. His relatives would smile and thank him. Some saw the twinkle in Uncle Charlie's eye, knowing what he was up to. Finally, after everyone was served, Uncle Charlie would hand Gary his apple and then peel the last one for himself. 

Gary told me that story when we were dating when we visited Aunt Elsie in her home and later a nursing home. I heard it several times. It was his homage to his beloved Uncle Charlie, who passed away several years earlier. It was his story about learning to be patient at a young age. He carried that character trait and Uncle Charlie with him to this day. 

And this story became family folklore as he told it several times as our children grew up. They didn't have a ritual to learn patience, or at least I cannot think of one. They have heard this story many times. They probably felt like they were in the room with dear Uncle Charlie. He told the story often when his parents visited, much to their delight. 

I contemplated what to buy Gary for his 70th birthday. The idea came to contact my children's college friend, who had painted a miniature portrait of us from a picture they provided. I reached out to him and told him the story about the apples. I sent him a picture of Uncle Charlie and one of Gary at a young age once he agreed to paint the portrait.

On his birthday, Gary was presented with an oil painting of him peeling apples next to Uncle Charlie. We hung it in our entrance hallway. And when I walk by, I am reminded that I can be a little more patient about those things I am impatient about. I smile and think he has imparted that lesson to me as well. 

Gary will tell them the story when our grandchildren are a little older. And so another generation might learn something about patience and love from a man who now lives only in our hearts. 

This short story took place over a few hours one lazy Sunday afternoon in 1962. The impact of this one story reaches across generations and will continue with that legacy. What stories about your business or family can genuinely have an effect? Sometimes, the impact is telling the story from generation to generation. What a beautiful opportunity!

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