Of fallen apples and busy priests

When the owner of a handful of fruit trees asked who was willing to cut them down, we adopted them.

We'll take care of the trees in return for fruit.

The offer was accepted, and today we filled the first two buckets with fruit from our trees, one with fresh picked mirabeilles (prunus domestica subsp. syriaca), the second with apples picked up from the ground, slightly bruised, some a bit rotten.

Soft bruises are where yeast and bacteria thrive, producing rotten apples.

Oh, the priests!

See, the apple tree is on a piece of land that belonged to a German lady, specifically one the local priest tried to coax out of some land.

The old lady was dying, and the village priest stopped by to provide spiritual support and pray with her. And then he asked: "My dear, have you provided for the church of the Lord in your will?"

The lady had been extremely pious all her life, the priest's question rightly alarmed the relative sitting at the back of the room. The old lady's condition had deteriorated during prayer, and she did not acknowledge the question. The holy man was ushered out promptly and wrapped into small talk in the kitchen while another family member checked on the lady.

She did not hear the question, the caretaker reported as the priest was walking out of the farm yard.

Well, I guess, the Lord had other plans than His servant.

This story, verified true, took place some fifty years ago in rural Germany.

Here is a contemporary one, nobody dies in this.

Division of agricultural land through inheritance was a huge problem in many places in Europe, leading to what can best be described as beach towel sized plots within the time of just a few centuries.

One such plot, 18 feet by 25 feet, is right in the middle of a 20 acre field a couple of towns over. That tiny plot is owned by the church. It has no road access, no right of way over the big field, and with current German building codes you cannot build s structure larger than a doghouse, a smallish doghouse, on the plot.

The farmer offered the church triple the price of the plot's value, but the church refuses to sell.

You never know, says the church property manager.

Well, maybe that is the plot where Jesus will land when he shows up again, says the farmer when no church official is around.