The Blog of ubglo17

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This is my post on #freewriters2817 #dailyprompt sacrifice the lettuce hosted by @marinnewest's. In a quiet village nestled between hills and rivers, lived a farmer named Papa Jide. Known for his wisdom and calm demeanor, he cultivated a modest piece of land where he grew vegetables—yams, tomatoes, okra, and his prized lettuces. These lettuces were unlike any others. Crisp, green, and sweet, they brought him honor at the local market and were often used to impress special guests. One year, the rains came late. Crops withered, and the soil turned hard. Farmers around began to panic, but Papa Jide remained calm. He had one last patch of lettuce thriving under his care—twelve full heads. He planned to sell them in the city for a high price. It would be enough to restock his farm, buy medicine for his wife, and keep hope alive. Just before his journey, a knock came at his door. It was a group of village children, led by Mama Ada, the widow who ran the orphan shelter. Their supplies had run out. “Papa Jide,” she said, “we’ve come not to beg but to ask—do you have anything to help feed the children?” Papa Jide looked at the children—thin, barefoot, but still smiling with hope. He turned slowly toward the cart where the lettuces lay, glistening with dew. His chest ached. He had counted on those lettuces. Selling them was his only plan. Then he did what his heart told him: he took all twelve heads and handed them to Mama Ada. That night, the children feasted. News spread fast. A few days later, a trader from the city visited the village and heard the story. Touched, he offered Papa Jide a long-term contract to supply his restaurant, with better pay and seeds for a fresh start. Papa Jide’s sacrifice of the lettuce was no loss—it became the seed of something greater. The village remembered not just the taste of the lettuce, but the lesson it left behind: sometimes, the greatest harvests come from what we’re willing to give up.