by Cookie Curci

One spring, our family's desire for a backyard swimming pool circumvented grandma's gardening joys. The above- ground pool was 4 feet deep and 50 feet round, its dimensions took up the whole backyard.

Graciously, grandma agreed to give up her backyard vegetable garden so we could install the play pool. But when it came time to cut down one of her young seedling trees, which was right in the path of our new swimming pool, Grandma staunchly protested. She insisted the volunteer tree was going to bare sweet nectarines, if only we'd have a little faith, and patience.

Grandpa, an expert tree grower, swore on his knowledge as an orchardist, that the seedling was nothing more than a wild, bitter peach tree. What more proof did grandma need?

But Grandma's belief in her tree was unshaken. She gave a catalog of reasons why the tree should be spared.

Begrudgingly, the family gave in to grandma's poignant pleas and settled on a smaller swimming pool. When we complained that our pool wasn't as big as our neighbor's swimming pool, Grandma would say, in her best broken English, "Wait and see, children, wait and see, this little tree will give you more pleasure through the years than a thousand swimming pools."

"Wait- ‘n- see ... Wait- ‘n- see", you and your 'ol Wait 'n see tree", I sarcastically mocked grandma's words.

By the end of summer, our enthusiasm for the swimming pool had waned. The pool had become a nuisance. One of us had to clean it everyday with an underwater vacuum system. And no one liked testing the water's chemical balance or the daily pouring of chlorine into the water. Plus, it attracted all kinds of flying bugs and insects.

The plastic pool was packed away.

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