Lesson from the Fruit Bin

I love watermelon. I’ve decided a crisp, chilled, good watermelon is my favorite food, particularly on a hot day. I like it even more than chocolate. Crazy, I know!

Valuing melons so, I’m one of those who dig into the watermelon bin, just in case that one down there looks a little bit better than one at the top. And I’ve been fortunate. Some of the melons have had thin rinds, some thick – prompting memories of my grandmother who’d say they’d be good for watermelon pickles and making me wish I was a pickle maker – but by far and away, all the watermelons I’ve had this summer have been good ones.

Which is why I was surprised by the comment of the man outside the watermelon bin the other day. He came up while I was putting my carefully chosen melon in my cart and muttered that he hoped he could find a good one this time, as the last five he’d purchased hadn’t been.

I wondered if his was a good one this time. Mine – presumably from the same patch – was. I don’t know how often the retailer switches out their watermelon bins, but it’s possible we’d had others from the same bin – mine good, his not.

It reminded me of a tale I’d heard long ago about an old man who worked at a gas station. One day, a customer came in and shared that he was just moving his family into town and wondered what the area was like.

The old man asked, “What was it like where you’re coming from?”

The customer replied, “Oh, we didn’t want to leave. Everyone was friendly and supportive. It was a great community to live in.”

The old man nodded in understanding. “I think you’ll find the same thing here.”

A short while later, another customer came in and shared that he also was just moving his family into town and wondered what the area was like.

The old man asked, “What was it like where you’re coming from?”

The customer replied, “Well, we couldn’t wait to leave. Everyone was rude and unfriendly. I don’t see why anyone stays in that town.”

The old man shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid you’ll find the same thing here.”

Maybe my searching through the bin for a watermelon pays off and I just happen find good ones. I do hope the gentleman was happy with the one he took home. I’m not saying he was a pessimist. Maybe his taste in watermelon is different than mine.

I’m just glad to have had a summer where my watermelon has always been half full. I hope to live my life that way outside of the melon bin.

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