And It's Not About the Yogurt

When I taught at BSU I judged some of the essay contests held annually by the English department. One year the winner was "The Secret of True Yogurt." It's an essay I have never forgotten.

Written by a young woman who grew up in East Berlin, it told of her mother's friend who lived on the other side of the wall in West Berlin, in free Germany. Somehow he was able to come over for visits, and when he came he would bring to them the things they could not get on their own side.

Often he brought yogurt.

They could sometimes get yogurt, she wrote, but it came in a plain off-white container, and it looked like everything else they saw in the stores--gray and lifeless.

The yogurt their friend brought came in beautiful colored plastic containers. The young girl loved the yogurt, but she loved the containers just as much, with their pictured fruit and colorful designs.

She would carry an empty container to school to show her friends, and all the children would gather around to see. They could not believe there existed such a beautiful thing. They would ask to hold the container or even just touch the lid, as if touching could bring the bright colors into their souls.

You can imagine how I felt, a reader who grew up in this country, one who throws away those colorful yogurt containers without a thought. Of course, it isn't only about the containers, and the young woman knew it. It's about many other things, like the difference between being free and not being free, like the blessing of plenty.

I thought of all this last night as I decided to keep Nancy's Honey Yogurt container--empty--with its yellow and purple and green on bright white plastic. Don't know why I'm keeping it. Maybe for this young woman.

Really Random

• Our moon today is a waxing gibbous moon. That means it is not yet full, but the illuminated part is greater than the dark part.

• My friend's husband has severe neuropathy in both feet. I asked if he has diabetes. No. The neuropathy was caused by chemotherapy (he had bladder cancer). I did not know chemotherapy did that. So I wonder about my husband and his complaints about his feet. He had lots of chemotherapy, of course. But he also had Type 2 diabetes.
  

• Today is 150 years since the South fired on Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. And then came the Civil War.

• I like the new yogurt, new to this area. It's Greek, called Zoi.

• I have raked pine needles for two days straight. Had to quit today when my sneezing brought folks out of their houses. I simply could not stop sneezing. Still, the neighbor's pine trees keep dropping needles, and it looks like I have done nothing about them.

• I change the linens on my bed every ten or twelve days. What do you think of that?

• I wonder how long people will know who it is when someone says "Elvis." And that, my friends, is really random.
  

Love in the Time of Today

School was out. They walked across the street from Timberline High, the two of them.

While they walked they held hands.

While they walked holding hands, he talked on his cell phone to someone, not her; she one-thumbed a message to someone, not him.

It's love. You can tell.