Climbing an Apple Tree

There's an apple tree in my backyard. It's low hanging branches beg little boys and girls to climb to leafy perches. There are knobs and knots perfect as hand holds. And the ground below is covered with spongy green grass.

Benny climbed it like a monkey, standing at the end of one think branch, his arms holding the branches over his head while he perused his domain.

Joseph, a little slower, needed a helping start on his climbing adventure. He cautiously made his way along a sturdy branch, scooting on his butt, holding tight to the limbs next to him.

Elizabeth, in her white and rainbow polka dot sun dress, stood on the ground at the base of the tree. She clutched the trunk with chubby hands, trying to figure out how to boost herself higher to be with the boys. Her little face scrunched in concentration as she grunted her efforts.

Finally, Becky called to her, "Do you want a boost?"

"No. I do it!" Elizabeth said, determined.

We watched her struggle another couple minutes, her eyes shooting up to the boys above her head. "Are you sure you don't want a boost?" Becky offered again.

"No. I have idea!" And with a serious face, she dashed into the house. Minutes later, she walked out, struggling under the weight of her step stool. Setting it at the foot of the tree, she stepped up and tried again to climb.

She got part way up and then got stuck. Aunt Becky ran to the rescue, giving her a boost after all until she sat in the crook of the tree, her arms wrapped around the branches, a grin on her face.