Ryan is a farmer who lives near the edge of town. For weeks now I've been buying eggs from him. I can hardly wait to get home and open the plain-looking carton to see the exquisite colors of the eggs inside.
They vary in size almost as much as they do in color, some big, some small, one or two downright tiny.
How different they look from the ones at the grocery store. There the eggs come in fancy, styro-plastic containers. Open one up and you'll see one dozen identical eggs in two neat rows. All of them matte white. All of them the same size.
Of course, they have cartons of different-sized eggs: small, medium, large, extra-large. But open any carton and it's hard to tell one egg from another. Even the ones labeled "All-Natural Brown Eggs" are all of a uniform size, the same shade of brown.
Funny, but when you crack an egg of any color open it looks like any other egg inside; Clear, syrupy white surrounding a golden yolk.
Makes me think of people. Some look plain on the outside, but when you look into their hearts you see an astounding assortment of colors. Others may seem to promise something unique, but inside they are striving to be like all the others. All the same.
Yes, and when you look deep enough, we are the same. Not that we don't have different ideas or different things to offer. But we have the same needs. We need air and water and food and dreams to which we can aspire.
I'd like to be like one of Ryan's eggs: Unique, not like all the others in the carton. I think I'd like to be the green one.
I'd like to be like one of Ryan's eggs: Unique, not like all the others in the carton. I think I'd like to be the green one.
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