How Sweet It Was. (original) (raw)

HOW SWEET IT WAS by George Lester

Imay have this wrong, but the best I can remember it, my father had a unique way of deciding where to have our vegetable garden each year. Our farm consisted of almost four hundred acres and we could have had it any place that was convenient. The way I recall it is that he would take notice of which spot grew the healthiest looking specimens of cotton, corn, high gear, and so forth. The next season he started a garden there. Regardless of how he arrived at his decision, it worked. Every year we would have some of the most robust vegetables you ever saw. People would marvel at our tomatoes, onions, carrots, squash and sweet potatoes.

Speaking of sweet potatoes, one morning Dad came in the house all out of breath with excitement. He was holding the largest yam we had ever seen. We celebrated like he had found a gold nugget. On our next trip to town he took his prize to the MarlinChamber of Commerce. It weighed in at just over eight pounds. The manager immediately removed a smaller one from the display window and placed ours there for everyone to see. We were all very proud of our exhibition but Dad was ecstatic. He never missed a chance to take friends by and show them what a great sweet potato he had grown.

A short time later kinfolk from out of town come to visit and as soon as he had the chance to work it into the conversation Dad told them about his championship potato. They all seemed to be as thrilled as he was and they couldn�t wait to see it for themselves. It was only a ten-mile drive into town so they all piled into the car to go take a look. They could hardly contain their excitement until the car finally pulled up to the Chamber of Commerce. Everyone leaped out and ran to the display window, then froze in their tracks. Dad�s pride and joy was nowhere in sight. It had been replaced by a twelve-pound sweet potato.

The trip back home was a somber one. For a long time no one spoke. I may be wrong about this too, but I believe that is the first time I heard the phrase.

�Records are made to be broken.�