Every childhood hike with my father inevitably led to the pivotal acorn moment. Baba, as we call him, would hold out his fist and ask us kids if we knew could guess what he was holding. He’d gently open it to reveal the little treasure and we’d shout with glee (or years into this, roll our eyes and mumble):
“No,” he’d wisely respond. “This is a tree. A great big oak tree.”
“No way!” “Come on!” We protested. He was obviously holding just a wee little acorn.
Then he’d remind us Continue reading