The Fig Tree Giggle — All morning, Boaz held his empty basket under the old fig tree and waited for one ripe fig to plop in. Read the full story →
All morning, Boaz held his empty basket under the old fig tree and waited for one ripe fig to plop in. The road smelled dusty and sweet, and the leaves went flick-flick over his head. “Any minute,” he told a beetle on the root.
Footsteps came padding down the road. Robes swished. Sandals scuffed. A happy crowd followed a kind teacher, and Boaz kept very still, because stillness helped figs think.
Then the tree giggled.
Boaz looked up. A small man was perched high in the branches, holding on with both hands and trying not to laugh. The teacher looked up too, smiling as if the giggle had been the best hello in Jericho. At last—plop!—one fig landed in Boaz’s basket. Next time you see the man in the tree, can you tell which branch saved the giggle?
