The Apple Lady

It's been nearly twenty-five years
A little Quonset hut, out in the middle of the country;
Scotts' Valley Elementary school, now abandoned and empty.

I'd have to wait for the bus to come back and make a second trip
and pick up us kids that lived further out in the rural district.
There was this woman that watched us, while we waited.
She was probably younger than I remember her at the time,
but she was grandmotherly and kind.

She would peel apples for us, quick as lightning... I'll never forget.
She could peel it off in one strip, and it seemed like she cored it in the same motion.
The apple bites she offered us came in different shapes and sizes,
A star, a heart, a crescent moon.

She'd tell us stories of the Oregon pioneers, let us act in plays, or lead us in childhood games.
She'd put on film documentaries in the gym, (sponsored by Mutual of Omaha), and turn down the lights...
we'd learn about Lions chasing Zebra's,
and panthers hunting in the night.

I've forgotten her name, and will probably never know,
but she gave me childhood memories, memories of gold.