One summer vacation memory I have is of visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Lincoln, Nebraska -- and Grandma's back yard garden. I think it was her mother's garden as well.
Walking through the very tall plants was like walking in a jungle. While I was loitering in the garden, Grandma was picking stuff off the plants for a meal.
She offered me a pea pod fresh off a plant. Immediately I thought, "I hate peas," and, "Doesn't this have to be cooked before it's safe to eat?"
I hesitated.
But I was reassured that it wouldn't kill me. And to show me it was okay, Grandma snapped open a pod and ate the peas. Because of the snapping sound, opening the pea pod seemed like fun no matter what the peas inside might taste like. So I opened my own pod. It snapped! Neat!
Now I was obligated to at least try a pea. I reluctantly ate one pea.
It was sweet and good. I ate the rest -- and started picking some pods myself. I snapped those open and ate those peas, too.
I learned that I didn't hate peas after all. At least, not peas eaten right in the garden.
Thanks, Grandma!
