A story to appreciate magical gifts
Once upon a time, Sally sent Robert out to sell artisan furniture and railroad track repair, he was supposed to bring back money to pay bills, but instead all he got were a bunch of brown beans, which she did not appreciate at all.
“Beans? How could you give away all that hard work, polished steel, and expensive furniture for a sack of beans? We have kids to feed, trips to take, and property taxes to pay. They’re going up this year, ya know!”
He hung his head low, feeling much unappreciated, and dragged himself to bed, saddened by how much he had disappointed her.
The next morning he awakened very early, determined yet puzzled, about what he was going to do with the beans. So he sat down at the computer to ask Google. All that came up were ways to make pinto beans, and he knew that wasn’t right. Pinto beans don’t look like this.
So he googled again, this time using a better keyword…
Yes! His new keyword, ‘aromatic’, worked much better to get the result he wanted. They are coffee beans. He knew when he saw several articles and links on the top page that those were what he was looking for. No need to click further. Now he just had to figure out what to do with them.
He decided to go for a walk and think about it. As he left the building, a scent hit his nose that smelled just like the beans in his pocket. He followed it. Who would have known that it would lead into a shop right next door that is full of the same wonderful smells!
As he entered The Frothy Monkey, the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. He walked through the door and ordered a cup of coffee, then he watched carefully what happened next. The barista put a scoop into a bag and out came the same beans that he had in his pocket. She put them into a machine, turned a few knobs, and coffee poured into his cup. Wow, it’s like magic! That worried him though, as he knew he couldn’t spend money on a big machine like that. It looked very expensive.
“Do people make that stuff at home?”
The barista looked up at him, “Pardon?”
He cleared his throat and started again, “Do people make their own coffee at home?”
She smiled and said, “Oh sure, they do. All the time. They use those French presses over there by the register. A Chemex works well, too. I recommend a French press though. It brings out the flavor much better. Why don’t buy one? They’re only $20. Just grind the beans first, and pour boiling water over them in this pot like this. I think we have just one left. Yeah, I see it. It’s over there behind those children’s books.”
Robert perked up at the thought. As he moved the Jack and the Beanstalk book to the side, he saw what he wanted. He decided to grab the book, too. It was only a couple of bucks, and his daughters would like it.
“Can you hold onto these for a minute? I need to get my bag of beans and have you grind them for me.” He quickly returned, made his purchase, and took off. Hopefully he’d be forgiven for selling his furniture for ‘just a sack of beans’.
The French press was really easy to use. He put the kettle on to boil water, put in a few scoops of ground coffee, poured the water, and waited. About that time, Sally was starting to wake up. He knew because Sunny, their dog, was starting to do her breakfast dance, which meant Sally was awake.
Robert was nervous. He knew how cranky Sally could be in the mornings, and after the argument the night before, he was anxious about what she would say.
Somehow Sally waltzed into the kitchen with a curious smile on her face. She looked like she was remembering something fondly of days gone by. She didn’t say a word, just walked right over to the coffee pot and poured hot liquid into the cup set out for her.
“What is this amazing brew you have prepared?”
“Why, dear, it’s coffee, just like they sell next door at The Frothy Monkey,” Robert beamed.
Puzzled, she asked, “You can make this at home?”
She flitted and floated around the kitchen happily humming away and then apologized profusely for doubting Robert’s choice to trade his hard work for those silly old beans. She felt terrible for not appreciating him the day before.
“Robert, I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t appreciate all the things you do for me and the girls. Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t see in those beans.”
And they lived happily ever after. The End.
The Moral of the Story
When someone brings you beans that don’t seem like they’ll amount to much, look for ways to use them. Count them, invest them, plant them. They may be magic beans after all.