Of course I loved the taste of candy. What kid doesn’t love sugar? But it was more than just delicious. I’m laughing because the word that comes to mind is gateway, and I don’t mean as in drug, but for me, it actually opened gates. 

My mother wasn’t one to rush to the doctor for sore throats or colds. When straddling the line between under the weather and getting over it, she offered up the candy test. If I could eat the piece of chocolate without feeling ill, throwing up, or gagging, well, then I must be fine — and the gates were opened to school, to play, to whatever the day would bring. 

Unconventional as it may seem, it worked. (I’m not promoting taking chances with one’s health, and neither was she.) It was more for, I suppose, the imagined tummy ache that felt so very real before a test. Or the clinging to a bit of sympathy, when really all was fine. A reminder that, no matter what, all was actually, for lack of better term, sweet. 

Standing outside the candy store in Stillwater, I could feel the fling of picket. 

I think it’s what the best of us do, remind us of the good. Not the gatekeepers, but those who swing them open and wave us through. Reminding us daily that life is good. My mother did that for me. Maybe we could all do that for each other.