Like Peas and Carrots

Jenice - Wichita, Kansas
Entered on December 11, 2008
Age Group: Under 18

“Why are you so beautiful and sweet-smelling? It’s no surprise we get along so well,” smirks Mr. Carrot.

“Must be because you’re so orange and dashing. I like it,” Miss Pea replies. “We’re not quite like two peas in a pod, but we’re better. Our colors are so contrasting; they compliment each other very well. We’ll make a fantastic pair someday.”

How sweet. Mr. Carrot and Miss Pea’s adorableness inspire my belief in the grocery store produce aisle.

When my day produces as many puddles in my path as possible, or when the lightning wants to strike me twice in one day, I can do nothing more than visit the closet grocery store.

Nothing comforts me more than walking through those automatic sliding doors and grabbing that gargantuan bag of salty potato chips and too pungent French Onion dip. After a hard day with the mantra of “you’re not good enough” running through my head, this is the only consolation. On my way out, I make sure to pass through the produce aisle. The smells and colors overwhelm my dull senses, reduced by the repercussions of being a teenager. Only then, do I remember.

The spark ignites and the fire burns within me. Eyes sparkle with the sight of the vegetables, the fruit—the butter. Whether organic or processed, they’re all in it for the long haul, and they’re in it together. I realize that even though there are bell peppers under the spritzer and shiny pears on elaborate display, they’re all side by side, holding each other’s hands, embracing each other with intimacy.

The produce aisle reminds me of my own diverse world that I thrive in, the diverse world that elates my soul and saddens my heart. It makes me understand that sometimes our collective efforts go out to feed starving children in the world, but still every four seconds a child in the world dies. Sometimes the efforts exerted don’t satiate those in dire need; sometimes vegetables and fruits in the produce aisle rot.

The produce aisle reminds me that sometimes my world conflicts as much as bean sprouts and broccoli, but I know that the world’s unity and cooperation aid will aid the entire whole, freeing everyone’s hearts and souls. When the world goes to bed at night, everyone could say they saved a life today, or in the least, made someone’s day just that much better and a simple walk down the produce aisle reminds me of that. I believe that all of us “aren’t good enough,” but that we all individually and together are so much better than just “good enough.”