The Melon Farmer
by Valerie L. Egar
A cheerful farmer praised the melon seeds she planted and sang to the earth as she hoed. Her heart was grateful for the sun and the rain and thankful for the hillside patch of rich earth that was perfect for growing melons.
When weeks went by without rain, she hauled barrels of water from the river with her horse cart and watered each plant. Not one weed slipped past her sharp eye. When the vines flowered and the melons began to form, she celebrated each one. "How sweet you will be!" "Oh, what a beauty you are!"
The melons ripened in the summer sun and the farmer carted them to the village market. Heavy and fragrant, the melons promised to be delicious. She quickly sold them all.
Those who were fortunate enough to have bought one of the melons could speak of nothing else that week. They were unable to describe the marvelous taste with simple words, only with comparisons. Rainbow-flavored. Spiced with the light of the morning star. A cello solo at dusk. The following week, a long line of people waited to buy melons.
Word of the incredible melons reached the king. He was a greedy man and decided if the melons were so delicious, he would have all of them for himself. He sent a message to the farmer telling her he wished to buy all the melons.
Most farmers would be happy to sell their whole crop so easily, but this farmer thought of the children who would delight in a sweet bite of melon and the old women who said that even a small taste made them remember long ago summers. She considered the families carrying a ripe melon on a picnic, anticipating its flavor as it was sliced.
By the light of the moon, the farmer delicately carved a villagers' name on the skin of every melon without cutting into the sweet flesh. The skin would scar as the melons ripened, leaving the name. Word spread about what she had done. Each of the villagers happily paid her for the melon inscribed with their name.
The farmer wrote the king, "I am afraid I do not own any melons to sell you. Every person in the village owns one melon. Perhaps you will find someone willing to sell you theirs."
The king immediately dispatched a messenger with a bag of gold to buy whatever melons he could. A few villagers sold theirs to the king, as expected, but when people talked for years about the flavor of the melons from that extraordinary crop, they always wondered what they'd missed.
The farmer continued her loving stewardship of the earth for many years with the fertile land returning a bounty to her and those she fed. And the king? He lost his taste for melons when he viewed the ones he'd purchased inscribed with names other than his own.
Copyright 2025 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be published, duplicated or copied in whole or in part without permission from the author.
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