GARDEN COMPETITORS

Beneath the whispering of the garden’s green leaves in the warm summer breeze could be heard some low but very distinct voices.  Said the radish proudly to itself, “how perfectly round I am!”  Said the turnip to the radish, “That’s nothing.  See how much bigger I am than you!”  And the turnip turned purple on top swelling itself up, while the tiny radish blushed red in shame.  Said the carrot to the turnip, “You are so superficial!  I have a much deeper personality than you!”  And the carrot turned bright orange from its strenuous efforts to penetrate the earth, while the turnip turned pale on the bottom as it perceived its status slipping.  Finally there came a muffled voice from deep in the ground:   “You all are too proud!   I’m content to be just what I am – dull brown with bumps and blemishes  all over.  I only hope to be a delight to children when I am peeled, sliced and fried French style.”   The other roots were silent, while the leaves in the garden above turned even greener with envy.  They all knew who would prove to be most popular on the dinner table.

AT THE BUS STOP

I was taking the city bus home – not because I wanted to, but because I had no car at the time.  Feeling poor and anticipating a long, hot walk to my apartment once I reached my bus stop, I was roused from self-pitying thoughts as I observed a woman and her little daughter get off the bus at their stop.  The mother had to re-enter the bus a couple of times to pick up all the bags of groceries she had stashed behind the bus driver’s seat.   Then through the window I saw her set down the last of the bags on the pile she had made on the sidewalk.  Turning to her daughter, who was only about three years old, she slipped the handles of her bulky black purse over the child’s neck, so that the purse hung on her like a cumbersome necklace.   Slowly the mother gathered up the bulging bags of groceries in both hands, and the two trudged off down the sidewalk together, each bearing the burden of the other.  Somehow, my own walk home from the bus stop that day didn’t seem so long.