Don't judge a book by its cover.

December 19, 2011
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Bright colored boxes, outlandish slogans, and enticing names surrounded the four-year-old, as she trailed down the aisle after her mother. “Try to keep up Em,” her mother called absentmindedly as she read the prices. Emily was the sixth child of two overburdened people, and she adored the grocery store she and her mother escaped to every Monday afternoon. Monday was the best day to go shopping, said Mommy, because all the unwanted items from the week before were marked down and by going on Monday they helped the manager so that he wasn’t overstocked. Emily stopped in front of the candy bars; they were splendidly wrapped in shining pink foil and the little girl was sure that such a beautiful wrapper must hold the most delightful treasure. She glanced at her mother, saddened by the thought that there would never be a chance to experience the candy inside. Then, in a movement as quick as a daring squirrel darting across the road, the coveted treat was in Emily’s pocket. She hurried after her mother to the checkout line, and then into their weathered, old car. There, in the backseat, Emily quietly pulled the small candy out of her pocket and carefully unwrapped it; trembling with excitement she took a bite.
And promptly spat it out; it was disgusting!

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