There’s a new history museum in the little town. At least that’s what it says on the sign. But when a mother brings her son to visit, they notice there is only one room. One big, white room. It’s almost empty. In the middle is a humble apple tree. The little boy lets go of his mother’s hand and ambles up to the tree.

“Mama, where’s everything else?”

“I’m…not sure, sweetie. Maybe we came at a bad time and things aren’t ready for us yet.”

As the mother looks around the room, looking for anything at all, the boy reaches out to grab a fruit from the tree. Twisting and tugging he eventually hears a snap. The apple is in his little hands.

His mother turns back to him. “Oh, honey, you shouldn’t-“

She reaches out to grab the apple from him, but the boy holds it away.

“But I’m hungry!” he points to the tree. “It’s gotta be here for us, right?”

The mother looks at the tree. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this apple tree is here just for them somehow. She turns back to her son and holds out her hand.

“Let me see it first.”

The boy reluctantly hands his mother the apple. She examines it closely, turning it with her fingers to see every part of it’s surface. She brings it to her nose to sniff it, and she even tries to squeeze it gently. The results of her impromptu fruit exam are that it’s clean, not rotten in the slightest, and just in relatively good condition. She hands the apple back to the boy after wiping it on her shirt. He beams as he takes the apple back. He immediately sinks his teeth into it.

“It’s sweet! Mama, have one!”

Her son’s words draw her attention to her now rumbling stomach. Perhaps she could use a snack after all. She reaches out and grabs one of the apples close to the top of the little tree. With a gentle twist she’s able to get the fruit. She goes through the same examining process she did on the other apple. This one is in similar condition. When she brings to the apple to her lips to taste it, her eyes widen. It is sweet. But even more so, it tastes like life. Like love.

For a moment a lifetime flashes before the woman’s eyes. Not her life though. She isn’t sure whose. She sees spaceship crashing. She sees a barren, desert planet. She sees people both good and bad. All trying to survive with with little they have. And at last she sees an apple tree. The very same apple tree in this room.

“Mama?” the little boy is tugging on her pant leg. “I wanna go. I’m bored.”

The mother is brought back to the present. She looks down at her son and smiles a bit.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Hand in hand, the mother and son walk out of the supposed museum. They don’t see the way the building disappears behind them, fading away as if it was never there. But the apple tree remains. And so does it’s story.