The Miracle of the Peaches

service
Kenna Hope

Someone said to me as I visited her elderly mother who was ill, “You’re a little young for this job. I think Relief Society presidents shouldn’t be called unless they are much older.” (She meant no harm, only concern for my young family.)

“Yes, I am young,” I agreed. “Yet here I am,” I thought. I do lack some years and life experience and knowledge. However, I have a lot of experiences that indicate that the Lord magnifies our efforts, whatever our age.

Last week I got a call from a man in our congregation. He sounded frantic, “I need your help!” and then the cell phone cut out.

Worried, I called him back, thinking of all kinds of awful possibilities for his call. “I have some peaches from my tree that I need someone to prepare. Can you do it?”

“Yes,” I said, remembering all the times we had offered to help this family, but they said they were fine. I knew this meant he had come to trust me. I also knew I could call many people to help me, but that takes time which I didn’t have. I did ask one person, but she wasn’t available. When I saw there weren’t too many peaches, I decided I could do it on my own…only I had never done it before.

Peaches don’t wait for you. You must deal with them quickly when they are ripe. It was after 8 pm when I had time to face the box of peaches and begin the task. I would be up late, of this I was sure.

At this moment, I saw the little light on my phone blinking. There was a text message from a neighbor telling me that she was canning peaches from 8-10 and inviting me to come over. I had signed up to learn her techniques at a canning presentation back in May. She was apologetic for the late notice; she had found a deal on peaches that afternoon and realized they needed to be canned right away.

I don’t love asking for help at the last minute. I don’t even like making phone calls. But I recognized a miracle happening and I needed to act.

I called her and told her I needed her help, not realizing her ENTIRE kitchen was filled with peaches. She and her husband, over steaming pots and sticky peaches told me over speaker phone, “Sure, bring your peaches. We will make it work.”

And they did. Jeremy washed and blanched. I peeled and cut, and Elizabeth prepared the syrup and packed them in containers. Their son also stayed up late in his pajamas to help. In a little over an hour, the task was done, their own peaches and jars set aside to help a neighbor late at night, with no advance notice.

Yes, I am young, and they are young, but sometimes there are miracles. And because of the peaches, I have strengthened friendships with the man with the peach tree, Elizabeth, and Jeremy.

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Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.