Humility

Have you ever decided to do something for another, your intention being simply to make them smile? You find such pleasure in the time, treasure or talent you put forth to bring your idea to fruition: plan a party, write a poem, find the perfect gift.

You picture the reaction with giddy anticipation; childlike belief that it will be received with as much joy as it is being given. You horde it for awhile, but eventually it bursts forth, a shaken soda, to be shared with a third party.

And like a bald tire on a rusty old bicycle, you are deflated: your intentions misunderstood, your efforts mocked. Your gift twisted and warped before your very eyes into a self-centered offering of gaudy costume jewelry.

Try as you might to taste the sweetness from whence it was conceived, your mouth is filled with bitter roots instead.