There’s an elderly woman who lives on my street. I see her often, always going about quietly, unnoticed by many. Today, I had just returned from school, tired and sweaty, when I saw her struggling to lift a bucket of water she fetched from my compound.
Something in me snapped—maybe it was fatigue, maybe it was frustration with how easily people overlook others. I walked up to her, took the bucket from her trembling hands, and offered to carry it to her home. She was surprised, but grateful.
When we got to her small apartment, she reached into a worn basket and brought out a heap of mangoes. “Take some,” she said with a gentle smile. I hesitated. “I’m okay, ma.” But she insisted. “Don’t reject a gift from an elder.”
I gave in, reluctantly placing my hand over the pile and picking just one—not too ripe, not too soft. She watched me with curious eyes and asked, “Why did you pick that one?”
I shrugged. “I just picked randomly.”
She smiled knowingly. “You made a good choice. That one won’t purge you. Overripe mangoes look good but sometimes have maggots. I don’t like them either.”
Then she added more mangoes into a paper, offering me two extra. But just as I was about to take them, she looked me in the eye and said something I will never forget:
“It’s not everything that is good that is good for you. And not everything that looks good is truly good.”
I froze. Because suddenly, she wasn't talking about mangoes anymore. She was talking about life.
We live in a world that teaches us to reach for whatever shines. The friendships that seem fun. The love that feels sweet. The shortcut that looks like success. We pick careers because they sound good, lovers because they look good, paths because they seem good. But appearances are not truth. And not all goodness is meant for you.
Sometimes the things that glitter the most are hiding rot. Sometimes what the crowd celebrates is the very thing that drains your soul. Sometimes an opportunity is real—but not right. Sometimes it’s good, but not good for your spirit, not good for your future, not good for your becoming.
And sometimes, the very things you reject—out of pride, fear, or haste—are the ones sent to nourish you.
Today, in the quiet corner of a dusty compound, an old woman gave me mangoes and a mirror. She made me realize that discernment is more valuable than desire.
So now, I pray for eyes that see beyond the surface, for a heart that asks, “Is this good for me?” before I say yes.
Because truly…
Not everything that seems good is good. And not everything good is good for me and you.
©mercyada
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