Curiosity can creep in and get the best of us. Sometimes, it doesn’t pay off well, but that’s how we learn new things and grow.

 

Sometimes in life, we need to be deceived first to learn a lesson and gain a new level of insight.  Unfortunately, this is my primary way of figuring out the world. Although this character trait is beneficial, it can also lead me to make the wrong choices. Whether the decisions are good or bad, I always learn something new. I scratch that curiosity itch, no matter what. 

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It was a cool evening. The wind was howling, and the leaves were falling. Mom needed to take me to Dollar Tree to buy the school supplies we had forgotten the previous month. While driving to the store, I noticed something I had never noticed before; berries were growing on bushes everywhere. What do they taste like? What do they feel like? They look like cherries. Do they taste the same, too?  My curiosity was running wild.  

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When my mom was pulling into the parking lot, I set my targets on a particular bush in a patch of grass. The berries looked delectable, like cranberries but with a louder, more vibrant red hue. As I approached the bush, my mom had no clue what was running through my mind. Usually, she goes out of her way to prevent me from doing stupid things. I inferred they were safe for that reason.

 

First, I felt the berries. The brighter ones were dense, and the ripe ones were squishy. They had a smooth, glossy outside finish—so shiny I could see my reflection as I inspected them. After feeling the berries, my curiosity flamed.

 

As we entered the store, my mom noticed the berries in my hand and asked, “You don’t plan on eating those, do you?” 

 

I quickly threw them on the floor, causing them to roll under the shelves and out of sight. “Of course not, Mom,” I replied innocently. At that moment, I thought I was sneaky. Now, as I reminisce, I see that my mom knew exactly what I was doing. My seven-year-old mind thought of a variety of possible conclusions, but the idea that the berries were potentially poisonous was not enough to outweigh my raging imagination. 

 

While checking out, I scoped out a bush I could grab berries from without my mom noticing. When it was time to leave the store, I strategically walked behind her. There was a bush located on a patch of grass in the parking lot about twenty feet from where we parked. When my mom was unloading things into the car, I snuck a handful of berries into my pocket. I was sure to grab a variety for a true evaluation of the taste.

 

I climbed into the backseat of the car and sat behind the driver's side so I wouldn’t get caught. My brother in the front seat unintentionally did a good job distracting my mom by telling her about soccer practice. While they were talking, I made my move.

 

I started with the squishier, less vibrant berry. As I popped the berry into my mouth, I felt a rush of excitement. The berry burst open and I came to a realization. These are not regular berries. It had a sour-tart taste and left a numb sensation on my tongue. My initial reaction was to spit it out, but my mom would have noticed. Instead, I calmly chewed on the mildly poisonous berry, completely oblivious to whatever side effects could come. 

 

I discarded the other berries, there was no way I was ever eating that again. I began to feel nauseous, and the aftertaste of the berry stuck in my throat. The mixture of the everlasting bitter taste and the burning sensation in my stomach woke my acid reflux, causing me to vomit.

 

It had been a long day, and although I was unsatisfied with the result of consuming the berry, my curiosity was satisfied. My urge to learn new things often teaches me unexpected lessons. From eating that berry, I realized that not everything that glitters is gold. 

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