Candy.

The bittersweet taste of candy is just that, bittersweet. You would never realize just how much

candy you encounter in a day until you actually take the time to notice it. My name is Raisin

Pottsworth; well, that’s my poet name at least. My real name is Molly Dean. I am 10 years old and I

want to be a journalist when I am older. I have written many articles during my short life but none have

pleased me and yet saddened me as much as the article I wrote about candy. No one ever stops to think

about the exchange of money, where it’s been, who had it before you, and who had it before them?

Well honestly I’ve found it’s quite the same with candy. In one day alone I encountered 42 different

pieces of candy and 37 different flavors. I will not list them all because I do not wish to bore you to

tears; however, a few of these encounters are just plain necessary to mention. Like the one with the

milkman. On the particular day that I woke having already decided to write an article on candy was also

by chance the milkman’s birthday. In honor of his friends and life he took a bowl of candy with him on

his rounds that morning and passed out a piece of candy with every delivery. When he walked up to my

door and knocked on the door I grabbed my pad and pencil and went downstairs hoping I would find my

first person to interview about candy. Instead I found a dozen glass bottles of milk and a small,

strawberry taffy. Strawberry taffy… I wrote the name down on my paper and put a little #1 sign next to

it. I was over at my friends house later that morning and happened to catch the milkman on the way up

to the doorstep. I stopped him and asked him the purpose of the Strawberry taffy. He said that when

his grandfather celebrated his final birthday, 83 years old, he decided that he wanted to spend $5

dollars simply on 5 cent Strawberry Taffies for the family to show just how much he loved them. So to

this day Mr. John the milkman gives everyone he knows one Strawberry taffy on his birthday. The 22nd

piece of candy I came across also had great importance. It was not given to me but to my friend Eddie.

Eddie is the 9 year old neighbor that lives next door. He lives with his mom Lila who is always crying

over the husband that left her and her son after finding out she was pregnant. Lila is not a very

attractive lady and sometimes I think she could use a good smack but I never tell her that because she

would tell my mother who already worries enough about my mouth so inside every time I go over I

politely say hello Mam and walk in. This particular afternoon after my routine with “MMMMMZZZZZZ.

Lila” as she demands to be addressed I walked in to find Eddie on his bed opening a letter addressed to

“My son Eddie.” I stood in the doorway in wonder as Eddie un-wrapped a small little package attached

to the letter and pulled out a tiny plastic bag which contained three bright round butterscotches. I felt

my heart drop for Eddie. We often asked to help in the back because we enjoyed packaging the candy

for the mail. And writing nice thank you for ordering letters. We were often rewarded for helping with

two fat lollypops that Mr. Bubba saved in the back, and we had both been in the store with Lila

yesterday when she asked Mr. Bubba of Bubba’s candy factory for three plump butterscotches. The

candy was a prank played by Mz. Lila who was trying to give an impression of fatherly love to poor

Eddie. The last story I wish to share with you is about the 37th, 38th, and 39th pieces that I encountered.

It was a small round perfectly preserved peppermint. I received it while leaving the dinner along with

two others for my friends. I was on my way out carefully popping one in my mouth with the pleasant

success of the day hovering over me and putting the other two in my small hanging backpack for later

when I stumbled on two dirty filthy cold and tired children leaning on the bench. I walked over and

gently asked if they had ever had a peppermint. They said no and so I pulled the two peppermints out

of my bag and handed one to each of them. They loved them so much they asked me what I would

want in return and I said I wanted them to come over get clean and warm and have a good night’s rest.

My mother being the angel she is quickly agreed to have them over and so did my father. And with

simply two pieces of candy I started a friendship with my two best friends, who have recently become

siblings, Peter and Missy. Candy, it’s a force, and the next time you pop a piece into your mouth I

suggest thinking about the journey it could encounter or the people it could have already met. But

above all think about the person who gave it to you.