I reach for my lunch, an apple purchased just yesterday, and bring it to eye level. I notice a few discolorations, bruising. I frown while running my fingers over the skin, feeling many indentations. I furrow my brow in annoyance. Strange that I would make such an oversight, considering how much I detest the brown blemishes which curb my appetite. I set the sullied apple back on my desk and lean back in my chair. I start contemplating how many times a simple oversight has caused me to miss out on enjoying something, anything. Quite possibly too many to remember, much less name. I glance back at the apple with even more disgust. A bruised apple, from this point, will always serve to remind me not just of it’s in-edibility, but also of my numerous oversights which have kept me from enjoyment.
I realize I'm staring. I reach to pick it up, repeating my examination with a bit more reverence, memorizing its imperfections. I begin to ponder how wasteful I plan on being, discarding this food simply due to a few discolorations. How fruitless would it be to toss it in the garbage? How many times have I eradicated seemingly imperfect things from my life, only for them to be proven valuable at a most inopportune time? I let out a long sigh, find an area with no flaw, and take a resolute bite. I’m startled, it’s quite possibly the most delectable bite from any apple I’ve ever had before. Perhaps this is what humility tastes like. It's absolutely delicious.
Great piece of writing
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