Gingko Fruit

When the scent of ginkgo fills the streets, I instinctively know that autumn has arrived. In that fleeting season, so brief it passes in the blink of an eye, there is someone who always comes to mind—my father. While everyone else hurried past, eager to avoid the fallen ginkgo fruit, he would pick them up himself, carefully peel away the shells, roast the kernels, and lovingly place them into our mouths.

Ginkgo has a strong odor, but it is known for its many health benefits. It is good for the respiratory system and also helps improve blood circulation and digestion. That is why, when autumn came, our home would be filled with the smell of ginkgo. The scent lingered and did not fade easily. Because we disliked the unpleasant odor, my father would shut the door to the veranda and quietly peel the ginkgo nuts there by himself. It was smelly, messy, and time-consuming work, yet he willingly took it upon himself. At the time, I could not understand why he went to such lengths.

It was only after my father passed away—after I had grown into adulthood—that I came to understand his heart. Even today, imported ginkgo nuts are sometimes falsely sold as domestic ones. My father likely wanted our family to eat only the best—ginkgo he had gathered himself and carefully prepared by hand. For me, who often suffered from stomachaches; for my sibling, who caught colds easily; and for my mother whose immune system was weak, he would tend the gingko nuts every autumn, as though he had been waiting all year for the season to return. When autumn comes, I find myself missing my father—the man who always put his family’s health before his own comfort.

Our Heavenly Father, who laid aside all the glory of heaven and came down to this earth—laboring as a stonemason by day and writing the Book of Life for His children by night—must have felt the same way. As I gaze up at the clear autumn sky, these thoughts fill my heart. Father, I miss You.