The Price of Peaches

What we do together

1978 was a good year! We were married in August and shortly afterward moved into a small one-bedroom apartment with no front door. Our entrance was the stairway above the garage of a home. There were three doors at the top of that stairway: one for the bedroom, one for the kitchen, and one for the bathroom!

We were determined to make it work. While my husband went to school, I took in sewing, provided babysitting services, and kept house. One day, I happened to be at the right place at the right time, and stumbled upon a bushel basket of ripe peaches!

Excited that we could begin our food storage, I paid the nominal fee and went home with my treasure. Knowing that they wouldn’t last long, I was determined to preserve them that very day. My husband came home from school, weary from studying all day, only to find me hard at work washing jars and preparing the syrup for canning.

With the patience of Job, he put his arms around me and gave me a big hug, then rolled up his sleeves. Together we blanched and pealed the peaches, carefully placing them in the jars. We covered them with the hot syrup and lowered them into the water bath.

We laughed and played like children as one by one, we added the jars of peaches to our little kitchen table. Steam filled the room, but joy filled our hearts that night. Together, we had followed the words of the prophets and laid aside for our future needs.

Those peaches seemed to last forever! Each time we brought one up from the storage room, we relived the blessed experience of putting our hands and hearts together in a project that not only solidified our union, but gave us sweet experiences for many years to come. All for the price of a bushel of peaches!

©2015 by Denise W. Anderson, all rights reserved. Subscribe today, for your emotional health!

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