We’ve been singing the ‘mulberry’ song recently. It goes like this…
“Here we go round the mulberry bush
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,
Here we go round the Mulberry bush
So early in the morning.”
A little while ago, at a swap-meet of all places, we happened upon a stall full of fruit trees. Right in the center, stood a beautiful little mulberry bush. Both Matt and I exclaimed in unison… ‘We had one of these growing up!’ We laughed, as we often do when we realize that our childhoods were so similar, his childhood in New Zealand and mine in South Africa.
Of course, we left that swap-meet with our new mulberry bush. We planted it as soon as we arrived home and have had such an amazing first mulberry crop from our little mulberry tree. The kids have picked baskets full, none of which have made it into the mulberry jam I’m impatient to make! Their stained fingers and shirts remind my Good Man and me of our own happy childhoods.
It’s wonderful to catch a glimpse of who we once were in these beautiful children.
Blessings and magic,