” No thank you! Are you sure that’s an orange. It’s green. You shouldn’t have picked it.”
” You know Pomi, a ripe orange does not have to be orange.”
” Why is an orange called an orange if it’s not orange?”
” It’s orange on the inside, I am sure.”
” Give me that.” Pomi reached for the orange I was holding in my hand.
” This is too heavy for you, my little crochet guy.”
” I can handle it.” Pomi grabbed the orange but collapsed under its weight.
” Let me help you.” I offered.
” No thank you, I am fine.” Pomi picked himself up and started rolling the orange towards the door, through the hall into the kitchen.
There he sliced it open, cut it into wedges and took a bite.
” You know what? It is ripe.” Pomi smiled.
” You see. The color has got nothing to do with it. The green color in the peel is chlorophyll that stays in the fruit. Only when the orange is exposed to cool weather the green dies and the orange color shines through.”
” Thank you professor. I think I have to go now.”