A week ago, I went to Wendy’s. I ordered a healthy salad and a diet Coke, like a good girl, but then, at the last second, my resolve to be healthy wavered just a tiny little bit, and I asked them to add on a 4-piece spicy chicken nuggets. And some ketchup, please. I was super excited about getting these spicy chicken nuggets, since I don’t always indulge… and the anticipation grew as I waited in line. But when I drove away and looked in my bag, I realized: There were only three spicy chicken nuggets. One nugget was missing. I would only be able to enjoy seventy-five percent of the spicy goodness that I had been looking forward to.
On any given day, I find myself spending a fair amount of time thinking about people who are suffering in the world. I think about refugees, about people in Syria, poor children and cancer patients. I feel overwhelmingly grateful for my life. I know I didn’t do anything to deserve it and I know it could end at any moment. I don’t have anything to complain about, truly.
But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed to see that I only had three chicken nuggets. “Ah, well,” I thought. I ate my three spicy chicken nuggets with extra ketchup (I love ketchup), and I moved on with my life.
Three days later, I went to Wendy’s again. I went through the drive-thru, and once again, I ordered spicy chicken nuggets along with my meal. I need to be careful. I really can’t afford to have this become a habit—they’re not amazingly healthy and let’s face it, they’re orange. But they’re just so good. Anyway, as I was pulling away from the drive-thru this time, I saw that there were five. FIVE! Five chicken nuggets, when I had only been expecting four! Balance was restored in that moment, suddenly and unexpectedly. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel better about my life, about the world, and about the path forward into an uncertain future.