Words are Not Enough to Express My Graditude: An Open Letter to "Granny" Maria Ann Smith

Dear "Granny" Maria Ann Smith,

I know I will never succeed in my aims of expressing how much I appreciate you, but I will try. I often think back to that day in Australia, in 1868, when you accidentally planted a hybrid of the European Wild Apple and the Domestic Apple. I think of it and I smile. How could you have ever known that you just planted the greatest fruit ever? The Granny Smith sour green apple was born that day, and the lives of every person on this earth, except those who may be allergic, was made better.

The sour apple is the perfect fruit. Its taste is the envy of every candy that tries in vain to replicate its flavor. Delicious, nutritious, in a word, perfect. There is nothing like it. Its sourness reminds us of the hard times in life, while the crisp juiciness reminds us to enjoy life and to take it all in. Perfect for pies, even better freshly picked, it is no wonder that there is an annual Granny Smith Apple festival in your hometown. Many people attend this festival from around the world to not only appreciate the fruits of your labor (get it?), but also you. You brought this joy into our lives. You made Fall exciting again. No wonder the Beatles picked your apple as their logo. Bravo Granny! Bravo!

I know, since you were a grandma already in 1868, you will probably never read this letter. I also know that, somehow, you know how I feel. You have always known. From that first bite you have known. You knew that strawberries have nothing on you. You knew that the Granny Smith Apple, with its complex taste and all, has made this world a better place.

Thank you Granny Smith, Thank you.

- Dos

P.S. Doc's fruit made him sick and he picked it as his number one. That is strange.