Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved oranges. The vibrant colour, the sweet and tangy taste, and the refreshing juice made oranges his absolute favourite fruit. Yet, every day at school, his mother, a woman of few words, would place a shiny red apple in his lunchbox.

As the years passed, the son’s preference for oranges never waned. However, his mother continued to give him apples, whether in his lunchbox as a child or as a snack when he visited her as an adult. Not wanting to hurt her feelings or appear ungrateful, he never mentioned his love for oranges. He convinced himself that his mother simply didn’t know or care about his preferences, leaving him silently yearning for the oranges he craved.

Time marched on, and his mother aged. Their interactions remained the same, with her offering him apples and him accepting them with a forced smile. He tried to fill the void with oranges he bought for himself, but the fact that his mother never acknowledged his preference gnawed at him. It seemed to symbolize a deeper, more painful disconnect between them. He believed she didn’t understand him or care enough to learn about his desires.

One day, his mother passed away. Grief-stricken and overwhelmed, the boy – now a full grown man – found himself sifting through memories and mementos of his mother’s life. Among the many things she left behind, there was a small orchard behind their family home. It was filled with apple trees, their branches heavy with the fruit she had always given him.

As he sat under one of the trees, holding an apple and feeling the weight of unresolved emotions, a wise friend came to sit beside him. She had known his struggles and understood the relationship between mother and son better than most.

“Say,” she said gently, “do you know why your mother always gave you apples?“

He shook his head, fighting back tears. “I always thought she just didn’t care that I preferred oranges.“

The wise friend smiled kindly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your mother was an apple tree. She simply couldn’t give you oranges, no matter how much you wanted them. It wasn’t that she didn’t know or care. She gave you the best she could offer, with all the love she had.“

In that moment, a profound clarity washed over him. His mother had loved him deeply, in her own way, by giving him the fruit of her own labour and nature. She had nurtured those apple trees, tended to them with care, and shared their bounty with him. It wasn’t a lack of love or understanding, but rather her way of showing love through what she had to give.

As he looked back on his life, he saw the apples in a new light. They were symbols of his mother’s love, not of her ignorance or neglect. She had given him what she had to offer, and it had been enough, even if it wasn’t what he had wanted. With this new understanding, he felt a sense of peace and acceptance he had never known.

The lesson here is that love can be expressed in various forms, and what we receive might not always align with our expectations or desires. It’s crucial to recognize the intention behind someone’s actions and value the love that is given, even if it comes as apples instead of oranges. Sometimes, when you don’t get what you want, it’s not because they don’t wish to give it to you, but because they simply can’t.