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The Lemon Tree Next Door

Ages 6-9 | Story and 9 activities

At the end of Cherry Lane stands a small house with a very large lemon tree.

The tree grows right in the middle of the yard, and every winter it is covered with big yellow lemons. They hang from the branches like tiny lanterns. Mrs. Abramov, who lives there, picks them in baskets.

Everyone on the street knows about the lemons. Everyone also knows that Mrs. Abramov is a bit grumpy. She doesn't smile much. She never waves when you walk by.

Dovid is eight, and he has a plan.

"Mommy, can I ask Mrs. Abramov for a few lemons?" he asks. "I want to make lemonade for Shabbos."

"You can ask," says Mommy. "But she might say no."

Dovid nods. He knows. But he goes anyway.

He walks down Cherry Lane, up the walkway, and knocks on the door. His heart pounds.

The door creaks open. Mrs. Abramov peers out, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. "Yes?"

"Hi. I'm Dovid. I live on the other end. I was wondering... can I please buy some lemons? I have two dollars."

Mrs. Abramov looks down at him. Her face doesn't move. For a long moment, she says nothing.

Then she disappears into the house.

Dovid waits. Has she shut the door? Is she angry? He takes a step back.

She reappears with a big paper bag. It is full of lemons, round and yellow and shiny.

"Here," she says.

"Oh," says Dovid, surprised. "How much?"

"Nothing. Take them."

"Are you sure?"

"I have too many. They go bad before I can use them." She hands him the bag. For the first time, a small smile appears on her face. "I'm happy someone wants them."

Dovid grins. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Abramov!"

He carries the bag home carefully with both arms. That afternoon, he and Mommy squeeze the lemons into a big pitcher, add sugar and water, and stir. The kitchen smells sweet and sour.

On Shabbos, the lemonade is the hit of the meal. Everyone has seconds.

"Where did you get these lemons?" asks Totty.

"Mrs. Abramov," says Dovid. "She gave them to me for free."

"Mrs. Abramov? The grumpy one?"

"She wasn't grumpy," says Dovid. "She was lonely, I think. She smiled when I said thanks."

Mommy and Totty exchange a look.

The next Sunday, Dovid and his mother bake a lemon cake with the leftover lemons. They cut it in half and put one half on a plate with a note: Thank you for the lemons! From Dovid.

He carries it to Mrs. Abramov's door and knocks. She opens it, and the cake makes her eyebrows go up.

"You baked this?"

"With my mom."

She holds the plate for a moment. Then she steps back. "Would you like to come in? I have a dish of hard candies."

Dovid looks at his mother, who is waiting at the end of the walk. She nods.

Inside, Mrs. Abramov's house is full of old photographs and fancy teacups. She tells him stories about her children, who live far away, and about the lemon tree, which her husband planted fifty years ago.

When Dovid leaves, she waves from the doorway.

The next week, she waves again, and the week after that, too.