Banana fingers

A few of us grandkids walked home from Marina beach one evening with Grandpa.

We stopped by a fruit-seller’s cart. He sold bananas.

“How much are they?” Grandpa asked.

They haggled. The vendor pointed at the other end of his cart.

“For your price, you’ll get those.”

Grandpa glared for a while and said, “But those are so tiny.”

The wrinkled, elderly man in a torn, sleeveless vest held up his right hand, fingers splayed apart.

“Are all these fingers the same size, sir?” he asked.

It was a philosophy that cut through to my eight year-old mind… and has stayed with me since. I’ve used it several times over the years, in dozens of different contexts.

It always made perfect sense!


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