Peachy Time
I truly believed I was going to have a fun adventure to tell my friends when I got back home. Let’s just say things didn’t go as planned.
Let me back up a little here. It was the summer of 1980 and I was fifteen years old. Mom, Mamaw Jo, Papaw E.O., and I were spending the weekend in Fletcher, NC. In case you’ve never heard of it, Fletcher is a small town just a little east of Asheville. Papaw’s army buddy Porter lived there and he invited us over to spend the weekend with him and his family.
Papaw and Porter were in the same unit in World War II. And they were the only two from the southeast. The other men made fun of they way they talked. Naturally Porter and Papaw bonded over that and stayed friends the rest of their lives.
Anyway, Porter had the bright idea of us driving to a peach orchard just over the South Carolina state line. For one price, we could pick and keep all the peaches we wanted. So that Saturday morning, we donned our summer clothes and drove down I-26.
Like I said, I was looking forward to this new adventure of picking peaches because the only things I had ever picked were green beans out of my grandparents’ garden. At first, picking peaches was fun and pleasurable. The morning was still a little cool and I was able to use my imagination in this new place. Then everything quickly changed.
First, it became very hot. Miserably hot. Second, we began to profusely sweat. Third, we had lots and lots of peach fuzz on our bear skin. Remember, we were dressed for summer, so we had bear arms and legs. Well, let me tell you, heat, sweat, and peach fuzz doesn’t go well together. At all. We all started itching. It wasn’t just a little unpleasant. Oh no, the itching was painful and unrelenting. We tried wiping the peach fuzz off, but that only spread it. It even spread as we scratched. It basically became a horrendous cycle.
We were all miserable.
The ride back to Porter’s wasn’t pleasant. Even though we were sitting in air conditioning, we were still itching and our skin was still burning. One good thing though, the smell of the fresh peaches helped to cover the odor of six sweaty people.
I was thankful when we pulled into Porter’s driveway. Soon I would take a shower and get the wicked peach fuzz off of my skin. But Porter only had one full bath, so we all had to take turns taking a shower. Mom and I were the last two on the shower list. Honest to goodness, it felt as if time had stopped and I would never get that painful, itchy stuff off of me.
I dare say you all know where I am going with this.
“Destruction and misery are their ways:” Romans 3:16 (KJV).
Think of that peach fuzz as sin. When the peach fuzz first gets on you, it starts out as a small itch. Then it grows and takes over and makes you absolutely miserable. And nothing you can do yourself will help you get rid of it. In fact, that just makes it worse.
“But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us all from sin.” 1 John 1:7 (KJV)
The only way to rid yourself completely of sin is to wash in the blood of Jesus. Nothing else will do. Best of all, you don’t have to wait for your turn. You can do it at anytime and anywhere. So why wait?
The picture with this article is of my Papaw E.O. Clark. It was taken at Fort Oglethorpe in Georgia. I am honored to say he voluntarily enlisted for WWII.
Brooke Cox is an author, speaker, and storyteller. She was a 2016 Selah Awards Finalist for Debut Novel. Her children’s book: “Dinosaur Eggs,” is now available. It is based on Ephesians 6: The Armor of God. Her novel “Until the Moon Rises: A Conniving Cousin Mystery” is also available. Also, she has two books out in her storytelling series: “Saucy Southern Stories.” The Amazon links for her books may be found on her website: brookecoxstories.com. Please feel free to contact her. She would love to hear from you.
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