I’ve never seen a pumpkin like this one. Nestled in a wooden crate with a pumpkins of all shapes, sizes, and colors, sat this guy, covered in roots, completely encased in a sarcophagus of its own making.
I can understand this pumpkin on some strange and deep level, hiding, protecting itself. This pumpkin can’t be carved like other Halloween pumpkins. It will never have a snarky grin or snaggly teeth; it won’t sit proudly with a candle shining in its belly, lighting the way for non-existent trick-or-treaters. This pumpkin is more than just a pumpkin, an orange symbol of the season. This pumpkin is a work of art, a masterpiece of Mother Nature’s design, as are we all.
This pumpkin is different. Has it traveled a long way from farm to table? Has it had to overcome the prejudices of pumpkin selection? Has it bucked the norms to survive? I will never know how this pumpkin came to be or why but I do know that its difference, its novelty is important; it is special. It is gorgeous in its defiance in the face of pumpkin normalcy. This pumpkin is perfect and for me, it isn’t just a pumpkin but the beginning of acceptance of life as is. With all the divisiveness in our country, through all of the shooting madness and hateful rhetoric, life gives us little moments of surprise and hope.
This is not the norm, but all is well regardless.
Find beauty in difference.
Find joy in other.
Find love and hope in unexpected places–even in a pumpkin patch.