The Lesson of the Lollipop
We walked into the store and settled the little ones in a booth. Sunday morning had dawned early so we packed up the three-year-old and ten-year-old and went into town for breakfast.
It was too late when I saw him, walking toward us with lollipops held out. “For the kids,” he said, his mussed gray hair falling onto his forehead. The wrinkled hands briefly touched the children’s outstretched ones as the lollipops were transferred.
I bit back irritation. When I looked at the lollipops all I could see was artificial color and flavor and straight sugar. Not exactly the right thing to start out a morning and certainly not a good thing for the already-bouncing ten-year-old beside my husband.
Don’t people know it’s best to check with the adults before handing out unsolicited candy? What if the kids had allergies? What if, like the little girl with us, they weren’t suppose to have sugar? Now it was left to me to be the bad guy and take the candy away before sugar-highs sent us soaring during church.
I forced a smile while my husband struck up a conversation.
“I buy boxes of those lollipops,” the man said, “just to give to all the children who come in. I’m here every morning, you know, to make the children smile.”
Then his voice lowered a bit and he winked at the two little ones, “I grew up in an orphanage and we never got lollipops. So I give them out to every child I see.”
And the ten-year-old, her eyes widened. She set the lollipop on the table, forgotten, and said, “I lived in an orphanage too!”
The two shared a look. The old, old man with the wrinkled face and the small girl with wide brown eyes.
And suddenly, it’s not a lollipop. It’s not artificial color or flavor or straight sugar. It’s the heart of a little orphaned boy who took a step past his circumstances, chose love over bitterness, and uses lollipops to demonstrate that love.
I left the red lollipop on the table and waited for the girl to notice it again. After a bit she picked it up carefully. “Are you going to take this from me?” she asked.
I looked at her, the way her eyes were happy, and said, “What do you think we should do with it?”
She thought a moment, tilted her a head a bit, and said, “I won’t eat it right now. I’ll just save it. Maybe I’ll eat it later if you say it’s okay or maybe not. But maybe I can keep it?”
I nodded and she tucked it away in her little Sunday purse, next to the crayons and coloring book.
Sometimes lollipops aren’t just lollipops, you know. Sometimes they are love.
May I always be able to tell the difference.
Hi Natasha,
I absolutely love this object lesson from the lollipop. What a cool testimony of the older man who grew up in an orphanage to now be buying the various boxes of lollipops and then give them out to every child he saw. I commend the older man for not becoming bitter about his situation growing up, but being able to turn it into something positive and blessing others even though he doesn’t know it. The 10 year old girl in the story, I’m guessing that was your sweet Lizzie who mentioned to him that she too grew up in an orphanage like the older man did? I commend her for deciding on her own that she maybe wouldn’t eat the lollipop right at that moment, but that she would just save it for the time being. I also love that she asked you if she could at least just keep it for the time being. Most kids would have begged, borrowed, or stole for that lollipop at breakfast time, but I love that your girlie (?) was strong enough that she decided to wait for it, and only eat it if YOU said that it would be fine to do so. No, it isn’t just a lollipop full of artificial colors and sugar, but it symbolized love from the older man for the kids that he briefly rubbed shoulders with.
Thank you so much for sharing this lesson with the rest of us.
God Bless,
Bethany
Thank you for sharing… I loved the story!
Oh, Natasha, this is beautiful. Thank you …
Its all about perspective…thanks for sharing that.
Tears in my eyes. This is beautiful.
What an important lesson. I cringe at always being the bad guy. Maybe if I looked for love in the lollipops, I wouldn’t have to be so bad so often.
Excellent Post! Too many times I jump to conclusions too… This was a good reminder… Kristin
I love this story, Natasha!
Tears.
Beautiful!
Lovely story. Thank you for sharing.
oh. my heart.
Awww! That’s all I can say… 🙂