Real vs. Pretend

The following incident happened a few weeks ago. In the midst of it, I was immediately struck by some brilliant spiritual significance. Then I waited to write the blog entry about it until I could give it my full attention {i.e. early in the morning is the best time for me to write deep stuff}. We started watching another season of 24, and so I have not been getting to bed at an hour conducive to early morning awakenings. Thus the lag in Dust entries.

All that to say, I forgot the point of my story. I wrote the general subject down in my writer's journal so I wouldn't forget to write about it later. But the brilliant spiritual significance has vanished. I even talked it over with Steven hoping that a good discussion would jar loose some of the cranial muck that is hindering my memory. But alas, nothing.

What to do, then? I decided to share the story anyway, and allow you to make the spiritual connection and life application for yourself. {Just between you and me, I need to be able to check it off the list in my journal or it may haunt me}. I would love to hear your thoughts on what you glean from the "parable."

I have a bowl of fake fruit on the end table between the couch and love seat. It contains 3 green apples surrounded by red cherries. The child has been taught not to touch the "forbidden fruit." To which end, she is generally successful.

Not long ago, she was crawling between the couch and love seat and subsequently underneath the aforementioned end table. Which she has done countless times. In this case, she miscalculated and actually tipped the end table. Luckily, I was in the proximity and caught it before it fell over. But some of the fruit spilled out of the bowl. I picked it up, and we returned about our merry way having learned to be more careful.

A few days later, I noticed a cherry on the floor that appeared to have escaped my earlier attempts to clean up the mess. Before I retrieved it from its hiding spot in plain sight, I was distracted. Then forgot about it until a few days later when I spotted it again. Mind you, the child has been crawling right past the thing for days now.

When I finally reached down to recover the errant cherry, I was astonished to realize that the little booger was REAL. You see, in the midst of all of this we had been visited by my parents who brought and ate a package of real cherries while they were here.

But my 18-month-old daughter was so accustomed to the fake cherries and had been so thoroughly trained not to touch them, that she failed to recognize {me too} and completely missed the opportunity to experience the real thing {thankfully}.

What does this mean? You decide.