Harold always knew that he was different from everyone else. He was shaped differently and he was even a different color from the rest of the loaf.

Harold spent his time watching his friends doing all of the things that he dreamed of doing.

Day after day, Harold would sit idly by as his peers would leave the bread box, one by one, to go out into the world and become great things.

His friends were chosen for things like a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich, one layer of sweet and nutty peanut butter and another layer of sticky and tart jam forming one of the best sandwiches ever made.

Some of his other friends were spirited away to become toast. Crispy and golden brown, those friends were not as fancy as some of the others, but they were still an important part of every breakfast.

Harold would sit in his little corner of the bread bag and listen as his friends would dream about becoming a gooey, melty grilled cheese sandwich, buttery and grilled just right, the cheese stretching to amazing lengths with every bite.

Then, one day, Harold found that only he and the other heel were left alone in the bread box.

Harold suddenly became very nervous, and gathered his courage and found his voice.

“H…hi,” Harold managed to utter. “I’m Harold.”

“My name is Hope,” the other heel responded.

“Y…you’re different from the rest of the loaf, but you’re the same as me,” Harold said, still in shock that there were others like him.

“Yes, Harold,” Hope said, “You and I are different from the rest of the loaf, but that does not mean that we are not just as important.”

Harold was always so busy worrying about where his friends were going and what they were doing that he never once stopped to think about what he could do or what he could become.

“Do you mean that?,” Harold asked, his voice full of hope.

“Of course I do,” Hope responded, and smiled at Harold

“But I have watched as all of my better looking friends were picked to go do great things,” Harold said with sadness in his voice. “Becoming things like super gooey grilled cheese or really thick ham sandwiches served to the kids by the pool on a beautiful summer afternoons.”

Hope smiles at Harold. “I know, Harold. I was here the entire time with you.”

Harold sits in the corner of the breadbox, giving Hope all of his attention.

“What you say is true,” Hope said as she sat down in front of Harold. “Our friends did leave the breadbox to go become all of those great things. But you and I can have a very special purpose as well.”

Harold leaned in closer as Hope kept speaking.

“We keep moisture from escaping from the bread and causing staleness. If it wasn’t for us, the others would have never been able to go on and achieve all of those great things.”

Harold stopped to ponder what he had been told.

“That’s great and all,” Harold said. “But what about the things we can do? No one will ever use us for summertime sandwiches or breakfast toast.”

“Harold, just because you don’t see your potential, does not mean that it isn’t there.”

Harold had never thought about this before. He had been so concerned with the great things his friends were doing that he never took the time to think about all that he could accomplish.

“What can we possibly do?,” Harold asked, his voice full of excitement.

Hope smiled before she answered.

“Well, Harold, there are a lot of things that we can do. We can become a delicious bread pudding, topped off with a big old scoop of ice cream.”

Harold smiled at the thought of ice cream.

“We could leave the bread box and become croutons for a crisp, healthy salad,” Hope continued.

Harold’s smile grew bigger when he thought about being a part of a colorful salad.

“You and I,” Hope continued, “could be covered in lots of different toppings and become a late night bread pizza.”

“Pizza?,” Harold claimed with excitement in his voice.

“Yes, my friend. You and I could even become sweet French toast, drenched in syrup and dusted with powdered sugar.”

Harold’s mind raced as he thought about all of the things he could become.

Before Harold could open his mouth to speak, the door to the bread box opened.

“Well, Harold, are you ready to see which one of those great things you may become?,” Hope asked, as she flashed Harold a wink.

Ryan Dailey

@ryandailey

Indiana

Harold the Heel

ryandailey