Dear Mr.South African egg,
I know this letter may come as a surprise but I have needed to communicate with you for a while now. You see I owe you an apology. For years I completely missed your true beauty. I grew up seeing my national eggs treated as royalty. Their white shells are always delicately washed. They are gently placed in a posh, often powder pink foam case. They are given an elite air conditioned room clearly displayed for all to buy. To me, for many years, this is what an egg was suppose to be.
I won’t lie, finding you in a flimsy open case, your brown shell, dirty, unwashed and even at times with feathers still stuck to it was a tad unusual for me. Even after years of buying you, I fought the urge to set you in my cool fridge. I grumbled having to wash you daily and the difficulty of transporting you in your flimsy cartons often made me sigh . I can’t even describe the horror the few times I cracked you open and was introduced to the risk of using true farm eggs, it may have been a few weeks until I braved cracking you open again.
I always missed my white eggs. At Easter time , I would search the city frantically willing to pay an arm and leg just for a dozen. I felt as if I had found the prized eggs!
Now that I’m back in the land of white, refrigerated eggs I see how wrong I was. I truly am sorry. I never gave you a chance. I judged you based on what I was use to. I failed to see how fluffy and delicious your scrambled eggs are. I failed to recognize how nice it is to free up space in my always crowded fridge. I failed to appreciate your amazing price. I see now that a shiny,white, chilled , expensive egg may look beautiful on the outside but in actuality it can’t compare to you in taste. When it takes 5 eggs to make the omelet you made in 2 I see, I missed the point.
You, my friend, have taught me many valuable lessons: the American way isn’t always the best, my culture and upbringing at times blind me to diversity, true beauty isn’t on the outside and as much as I claim I love the world; I struggle with seeing past what was my tiny world for many years. I miss you dearly and am counting the days to be reunited with you .
P.S- if you happen to see Mr. South African climate or the guys that pumped my petrol please let them know I have letters for them in the mail as well. 🙂