O IN TME N T F O R T HE SO UL
•••
REV WILLIE BOTHA
A PRICKLEY PEAR STORY
READ: Proverbs 1:1-9
ONE DAY, LONG AGO,
MY FATHER AND I WERE
WAITING FOR OUR
CATTLE IN THE BLES
BUCK CAMP ON OUR
FARM, SWARTFONTEIN.
THAT WAS WHEN HE
TAUGHT ME HOW TO
PICK AND EAT A PRICK
LY PEAR IN THE VELD.
I
t was early February and we
were sitting next to a large
prickly pear bush. He said: “Let
me show you how to eat a prickly
pear in the veld.” He selected a
prickly pear and carefully picked
it. Then he uprooted a bitter
‘karoobossie’ and used it to roll
the prickly pear on the ground,
thereby getting rid of almost all
the little thorns. He then used his
pocket knife to peel and cut open
the prickly pear. It was one of the
tastiest prickly pears that I ever ate.
Not long after that I was in
the veld again, alone this time.
There were still a lot of prickly
pears on the bush. I remembered
how my father picked the prickly
pear and before long I had one
on the ground. The ‘karoobos
sie’ did its job and I ate this very
sweet prickly pear. However,
when I got up I realised that I
had a problem. Then it dawned
on me: I had forgotten one of
the most important things that
my dad taught me about prickly
pears. I stood against the wind
when I picked the prickly pears.
With each one I picked, thousands
of little thorns blew over me.
I learnt a lot more than just
having to stand on the right side
of the prickly pear bush. I also
learnt that my dad knows things
which I don’t know yet. He
taught me how to pick prickly
pears because he knew that they
are sweet, but he also knew that
prickly pears have thorns.
In Proverbs another father is
teaching his son. This father does
it because he knows that “...life
if full of promise”, but there are
thorns as well. The writer does it
because he knows certain things
about life which his son still has
to learn. He teaches him about
wisdom, honesty, fairness, love
and faithfulness and a lot of other
things. At the same time he warns
him against the thorns - those
things that are not sustainable
and which can destroy your life.
I recently took a bag of prickly
pears to my father on his farm in
the Northwest. He is advanced in
years now and I don't know how
many prickly pears we will still be
able to enjoy together. I pealed the
prickly pears, like he taught me,
and shared it with him. It reminded me of the day in the blesbuck
camp on our farm Swartfontein
and the sweet prickly pear which
I ate. I realise now that it was not
so much about the prickly pear,
but the fact that I could share it
with him in the blesbuck camp.
A father who taught me about
the sweetness and the thorns of
a prickly pear... and of life.
SENWES Scenario • Apr/May 2016
61