Apples Don’t Just Grow by Maida Parlow French. McClelland & Stewart, 1954.
The library has a local history shelf, and I picked up this book on a whim. My expectations weren’t great, as it was written more than half a century ago, and I expected it to be dated. I was surprised to find how well the book has aged. Maida French’s story is very engaging and I was sorry to reach the end of the book, having become an admirer of French and fond of her three sons.
Apples don’t just grow. They require a lot of care. Maida French learned the ins and outs of orchard maintenance and apple marketing when she moved to the family farm with her three young sons and set out to earn a living with the orchard. She had lived in Toronto with her husband, but when he died of an illness that used up all of their financial resources (pre-OHIP!), her options were limited. The Parlows owned a farm near Iroquois, located by the St. Lawrence river, which had been given to their United Empire Loyalist ancestors in 1784. However, the farmhouse had long stood empty and the orchard had been unattended for some years. In her book, French tells of the first 3 years on the farm as she, her sons and her Mom who comes out to help her, work to repair the house and return the orchard to health.
No year is given, but the story seems to begin about 1930, the beginning of the Great Depression. It is very much a tale of anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, with difficulties at every turn. Apple scab, inclement weather, shifty apple buyers and countless hours of hard physical labour are but a few of the challenges faced. However, French also conveys the great joy to be found in country life, the pleasure of keeping animals, growing your own garden vegetables, experiencing the coming and going of the seasons, listening to the birds.
What a wonderful childhood her sons experienced! Their young lives were filled with the freedom of the outdoors, exciting adventures, animals large and small, and the satisfaction of meaningful work. One of my favorite episodes tells of the Christmas Eve when the boys wanted to be in the barn at midnight, the hour when, legend has it, the animals can speak. They spend a warm, quiet time with the animals in the midnight barn, but when they are leaving, fearing the children are disappointed, their Mom says
“I’m sorry! It couldn’t happen, you know. That was just an old story, a legend George told you about animals talking.” ” But, Mummy!” They sprang around me. “They did talk. They talked. They were answering us all the time.” I stood there staring at them. David said, “You didn’t expect they’d speak English, did you?”
What had I expected? That was it. I had expected nothing. How could I understand? I had brought no gift. It was the children who had come with gifts. Love, and thoughtfullness, and belief, all they had, they had brought out to our stable on Christmas Eve.
When they arrived at the farm, the orchard was already there for them, planted by another. They decide that they should make a contribution to the future as well, give something back to the land, and to their busy lives add the chore of planting thousands of evergreen seedlings.
It was difficult to remember that French would have been of my grandparents’ generation, her voice feels so immediate and affecting. Her three sons would be of my parents’ generation. The book was published in 1954 and the closing chapter provides an update. The three boys all went off to fight in World War II and the oldest son didn’t return. At the time of writing, French expected their farm to be expropriated for the redevelopment of the town of Iroquois as it was moved to make room for the flooding of the St. Lawrence Seaway project. (See A Shopping Plaza Fit for a Queen) After finishing the book, I set out to locate the property. It appears that plans to move the town to that plot of land were changed, because Iroquois is west of the farm site. Parlow road is still there. There no longer seems to be much agricultural activity in the area and the road is lined with houses on large lots.
There was little sign of the farm or the orchard left. I didn’t see a house that matched the description given in the book and it seems to be gone. There was a small plantation of pine trees that might have been among the trees the family planted, and by this old barn stood an aged apple tree that might be a last remnant of the orchard.
Here is the view of the St. Lawrence river as seen from Parlow Road.
Willow House Chronicles 
This is my favourite book review so far. A local story to go with it. 🙂 It’s interesting to learn the history of the area you live in, read about familiar landmarks as they were most of a century ago.
Hi, I am married to Paida Parlow French’s oldest grandson. Some of the information you give is inaccurate. If you would like to update the information you may contact me.
Maida (Grancy) died about 1976 or 7. Her first husband was Knowles and therefor the sons are Knowles.
That book is read every year at the North Renfrew Longterm Care Centre where Warwick John and his wife both recently were residents. The oldest son was lost in a lancaster that went down or disappeared off the Canadian coast. The second son worked for Atomic Energy of Canada during the war and all of his life. He was a Physicist. He was my father in law. The third son worked for Bell Northern and was involved in the invention of TV. I don’t think the 2 younger boys went to war at all but worked at home on war related projects. Warwick was born about 1920 but I need to look that up to be sure. That should give you a date as to when the events in the book took place. The house is very near to the water now that the St. Lawrence is flooded and was there last time we looked. Yes we have photos. Ann Knowles
What a beautiful review. I am currently reading this wonderful book. It was given to my late mother-in-law as a young woman by her two historian aunts, Lois and Phil Stephenson. For years it sat on my bookshelf, unread. While cleaning one day, I had a good look at the cover and was compelled to read it after all that time. Ann Knowles – I would love to learn more. I am searching for Maida Parliw French’s other works as well. I know this post is 9 years old, but hope I have reached you.
Dear Ann,
I see that you left this comment eleven years ago so I’m not holding my breath for a response, although I hope I’ll hear from you! I am a filmmaker and am looking to get in touch with Maida Parlow French’s literary executor. Would you be able to point me in the right direction?
Thanks very much.
Sofia.
Ann, Thank you so much for stopping by and providing additional information. I’m glad I discovered Maida’s book, which I enjoyed very much and happy to learn of her family.
Hello Ann Knowles:
I’m married to the grandson of Charlie and Ethel McInnis and would be interested in any information concerning Maida Parlow French.
Maida Parlow French was my great aunt as her sister was my grandfather’s second wife. I remember going to the house at Iroquois as a child and climbing and falling out of the apples trees. My sisters and brother and I always enjoyed hearing her stories and of course we all read the books as children. I wish I had a copy of “Apples don’t just grow”.
Judy (Matheson) Beddoes
Hi Judy, Maida must have been an interesting woman. I really enjoyed her story. Thanks for dropping by! If you would like to get a copy of “Apples don’t just grow”, try going to the abebooks.com website and entering the title. You will probably find a couple of copies available for sale.
I am interested in French – especially her book on Deerfield Village in Massachusetts. The book was called Boughs Bend Over. I read this as a teen-ager years ago and have never forgotten it. I would be interested in contacting anyone who has information about the background to the book.
My great grandmother, Pearl Clark nee Davidson, was (in my grandmother’s words) “great friends” with Maida. I have three pastels of hers, one of my great grandmother sitting by her pool in Burlington, one of my Grandmother as a child, and one of a pine tree. A talented artist and author! What an amazing story.
I lived on the Tuttle farm just east of the Parlow Road until Seaway activity prompted my family’s move. My mother Frances Tuttle was born there in 1907. I too enjoyed the book and recently called my cousin Phoebe, daughter of Bruce Tuttle, wanting to read it again.
I read this book as a teenager in the early 60s. Maida was a distant relative on my mother’s side and my grandmother had a copy of her book. I was totally captivated by it and also read Boughs Bend Over her earlier novel about the same subject. I much preferred Apples. Now Helen Humphreys of Kingston has written THE GHOST ORCHARD- the hidden history of the apple in North America. I wonder if she is familiar with Apples. I will try to find out!
I have just finished reading Apples Just Don’t Grow. It was a wonderful read. I could almost smell the apples as she is picking them. I am now on the hunt for her other two books. I would also like to know if there is a site where some of her paintings may be displayed.
Where did u buy the book?
I got the book from the library and don’t own a copy. You might try Abebooks.com if you wish to buy a copy.