Picking Blackberries

sometimes we need to pay attention to the lessons

When I was young, my grandmother would tell me stories
about her grandparents.
There were stories about the origins of the universe.
Legends that connected me to my world.
Embedded in the stories were admonitions to live a worthy life.
Sometimes, when I walk out with my daughter to pick berries,
I think about those lessons . . .

Mama, we have to pick all the blackberries so the bugs don't get any . . .

There's plenty of berries for you, me, and the beetles, baby girl.

I don't like the beetles. See that one?

Where? Oh, look how beautiful and shiny his wings are. . . the beetle respects us. We should respect the beetle.

What about the birds? Do we have to share with them?

Plenty of berries for them, too.

But, why, mama?

Because our Mother tells us to share with others. Don't eat so many, there won't be any left in the bucket.

I only eat the ones I pick . . .

Alright, girl.

Mama. . . ?

Yes?

Do you want to pick blackberries alone now?

Are you wanting to go and play? Go on, then, baby girl.

Reviews

[Dean Kuch®]

Our kids always do seem to find a polite, kind and gentle way of letting us know that they are a little bored with us, at times. for others, it may be a different experience entirely, but most of the children I have been around in my family will let an old man down easily...

Nice little sentiment here, Em...

[holly]

Good memories. I'm grateful you shared them. Thank you.

[Desert Dreamer]

Great lessons, we should all teach our children to share, and to share even with the birds and insects. In my garden I share with all the creatures, even letting the caterpillars eat parts of my flowers, knowing that they will become the next generation of butterfly. Not all of the flowers are for me. I think when we do not share our food and our land with all the living creatures, we leave behind us a place of desolation. I, too, remember the lessons taught by my grandparents and stories told of my ancestors. This is a wonderful poem. So glad you have shared it with us.

[Collect-Eye]

My grandmother taught me things we never had a conversation about..I remember her comforting me when her husband died..He spoke his last words while we were visiting..he came out of a coma to say two smart a*s words a while before he died and went back to sleep. I fell asleep 16 years later and woke up from my nap and knew my grandmother died [got a phone call while I was still lying down]..all this quaker legacy makes sense to me..it calls to me..but I'm also that kid that wants to play and doesn't wanna listen to anything. Something about this profoundly lonely..but it's also profoundly connective. I remember someone getting me high and we went into a field and saw two locusts having sex on a corn stalk..it was magical and slightly disorienting..nature is a beautiful thing..i feel extremely connected to insects at times. If only I could relate my experiences as beautifully as this, though..such imaginative and thoughtful prose imagery..Maybe it's cause I'm slightly nuts..but I'm getting by

[Yvonne Heidt]

How completely heartwarming this is. Left me with a nostalgic smile.
Great job.

[Solst Rapture]

I've read this you know? A few days ago. And about a year ago, I'm sure of it. I remember it's innocence.

A lovely write. As ...Beth... says, endearing and wonderful.

[[untitled]]

This is whimsical, truthful and delightful. And it produced a smile upon my face.

[Raef C. Boylan]

So has she followed her siblings through the blackberry picking stages? I think I remember your other piece saying that the next phase was realising they could get away with not picking them and still get to eat the pie later - seems she still wants to take part, which is nice.
I found the mother-daughter conversation very endearing; in all your work that mentions Anna, we get a sense of her quick-witted cheekiness - "I only eat the ones I pick" - and logic 'flawed' by pure honesty; these patient lessons concerning nature and our place in it are the kind that every child needs.
Great piece Emily, pleasant reading.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

A wonderful slice of another time. I have picked my share and I hate those chiggers! lol A wonderful read.

[Ken Simm.]

Lovely, lovely, lovely simple and profound.