Ornamental Fruit (Part 1)

When James woke one morning, the strangeness of his room surprised him. Then he remembered the plane ride that had brought him to Arizona to visit his grandparents. He hopped out of bed at once. It was his first trip to their new home, and he didn't want to waste time. The sun streamed through the window, promising a beautiful day.James looked outside, and when he saw a tree with oranges hanging from the branches, he knew what he wanted to do first. He hurried to the kitchen where he found his grandmother fixing breakfast. "Grandma, can I go out and pick an orange?" "Sure, James," said Grandma. "You can pick one, but the oranges on that tree aren't good to eat."James went out and picked the biggest orange he could find. It looked so good that he wondered if Grandma could be mistaken. He took it to the kitchen. "This sure looks like it's good to eat."Grandma cut a wedge out of the orange and held it out for James to taste. "I'll let you be the judge."As his tongue touched the orange, James made a face. "Ugh! Bitter! How could anything that looks so good taste so bad?""It's an ornamental orange tree," Grandma explained. "It looks pretty, but it doesn't produce good fruit."James looked up as Grandpa came in. "Want a piece of orange, Grandpa?" he asked with a grin.Grandpa glanced at it and laughed. "No, thanks. I know where you got that." He sat down at the table. "You know, those oranges remind me of myself when I was young.""They do?" James asked. "How?""I used to think I was a good person because I went to church, obeyed my parents, and tried to be nice to others. I figured that doing good things like that meant I'd go to heaven one day. But then God helped me understand the truth--that no one can earn their way to heaven by what they do. I may have looked good on the outside--like that orange does--but my heart was full of sin. I needed Jesus to save me." Grandpa grinned. "Now I know I'm going to heaven one day, not because of what I've done, but because of what Jesus has done for me."–Esther M. Bailey