The story of an ugly strawberry

Once upon a time there was a strawberry that wasn’t as beautiful as the others. She wasn’t bright, or red or juicy. On a strawberry’s age, everyday is equal to three years; so this strawberry was an unattractive teenager at the age of five days. The master and caretaker of these strawberries was an old farmer whose wife had thing for making crêpes, pies and all sorts of desserts for their fat daughters. The ugly strawberry had heard horrible stories about nobody wanting damaged and unattractive strawberries: The thing she feared the most was being unable to fulfill her master’s need, to be useless in the world, and to not fill it with beauty. She was now a sad, ugly strawberry.

            At the age of six days of the strawberries being born, the farmer came to collect them. He put them in a bowl and delivered them to the house. The ugly strawberry saw how her mates were being treated by the farmer’s wife. They were all beautiful and useful, so they were all getting comments like “I’ll serve you as a topping for a cheesecake!” or “So pretty! Linda, try this one!” and she gave it to her daughter. The ugly strawberry was so ashamed. When the moment came, she expected to be thrown to the trash can; instead, the farmer’s wife looked at the ugly strawberry, pressing her eyebrows with an analyzing stare. She put it aside and continued with the other strawberries. When there were only a few left, she took all the imperfect strawberries, cut the damaged parts and put them all in a fruit smashing machine. The ugly strawberry was smashed, yes, but the result was a delicious cocktail of beautiful strawberries altogether. The ugly strawberry was no longer ugly and alone, but she was considered beautiful and she was accompanied by other strawberries that held a purpose in the whole. She now formed part of a beautiful cake that the farmer’s wife secretly made for her husband on their 33th year anniversary. She was now an eaten beautiful strawberry.