People are like Easter eggs

     When I was in second grade, we had an Easter egg hunt at school. Being the introvert, I marveled at the frenzy of kids running all over the place like it was black Friday in a department store. What I noticed was how many eggs that were passed over as they fought for the obvious ones. I picked them up, one by one, sometimes getting on the ground to reach for the one hidden beneath the merry-go-round or lying discretely beside a see-saw. Then, I noticed one classmate who picked up an egg in disgust and quickly tossed it. My curiosity led me to the egg and I noticed that it was quite ugly. The shell was almost completely shattered. I reasoned that it was still an egg that could be counted and I hesitantly decided to place it carefully in my basket.

     By the time the hunt ended and others were already counting their eggs in excitement, I noticed an egg that had not been discovered. Seconds after the teachers called an end to the hunt, I quickly ran to retrieve it. As I leaned down to pick it up, I felt a slight nudge on my basket. I turned around and the boy who tossed the defective egg was walking away while putting an egg in his basket. As I wondered how I managed to pass over it, I became convinced that he took it from my basket. After the final count, I was shocked that I had more eggs than most and I came in second place! I'll let you guess who came in first. Yep. The funny thing is, I never protested. I knew I had won.

     Every Easter, I am reminded of that year. I'm not sure why, but I have never forgotten it. All of the times that I've recalled that memory, I have never thought about how it can relate to life. People are like Easter eggs. You have the pretty ones. Then, you have the ugly ones, the defects and the rejects of society--the undesirables.

     Life for most is a contest to see who ends up with the best and the most. Chase! Fight! Steal! Do what you must to win. In the process, some tend to be kicked aside. They appear to be worthless, broken by the trampling of the rat race. Real value is not on what is seen, but what lies beneath. The soft, unseen substance that is preserved inside. The part that reveals a better picture, a better insight, into its history; a more detailed account of its creation and purpose. The shell can be dressed up, painted, and designed to look desirable. On the other hand, it can also be shattered and broken. The "invisible" is exposed sooner to those because the shell is already in pieces. All that is left is the peeling away.