A girl with a red bow in her hair approached. “Come, grandpa, come!”
The old man, once a boy, moved slowly. The agony of joints like splinters.
“What is it?” he finally asked. “I am tired.”
The little girl bounced like a rubber ball, arms and legs flailing. The stump was reminded of the boy who ate its apple.
“Momma wants you. C’mon!”
The rickety man teetered to his feet. He followed the springing bundle of energy.
They rounded the house. There his surprise was planted. Three young trees. And the old man was happy.