Standing in the kitchen while the children nap...

“Why do you eat blueberries by the handful?” she asks.

“How else would you eat them?” I ask.

“One at a time,” she says.

“But,” I say, “they are so tiny. They don’t take up enough room in my mouth.”

“Well,” she says, “when you eat a handful, they are all gone at once. I bet some of those berries never have a chance to be tasted.”

I say, “But you can hardly taste them individually.”

“No!” she says, “No! You can enjoy each one by itself, roll it around on your tongue, pop the skin with your teeth, and drink the juice. And the experience lasts longer.”

“Longer, yes, but less intense than a handful of berries simultaneously crushed.”

She says, “You have to think of each one as you would think of a day. You can’t take them all at once like you would a week or a month. You would miss out on all the little pleasures.”

I say, “But if I take them several at a time, the sour berries and the overripe ones balance each other out.”

“But, they are expensive, so it is best to savor them slowly.”

“They are much cheaper off the bush,” I say.

“But we don’t have a bush; we should plant one,” she says.

“If we planted one,” I say, “would you still eat them one at a time?”

“Yes,” she says. “If you had to pick them individually, would you still eat them by the handful?”

“Hmm, that is a good question. Would you pick them for me?”

She says, “I would, if I knew that each time I pulled a little blue berry from the bush that you would take the time to appreciate it for its own experience.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’d appreciate its contribution to the congregation in my mouth.”

“Then you can pick your own.”