To Be or Not To Be

That age old question...

Henry leaned over the edge of the counter, frowning at the sheet of paper in front of him. His pencil hovered above a half-finished school assignment.

The topic: Write a short essay on an important decision you’ve made.

His grandfather shuffled into the kitchen wearing old slippers. He carried a newspaper under one arm and a cup of hot coffee.

“You look like a statue,” Grandfather said.

Henry sighed and said, “We have to write about a big decision.”

Grandfather sat down at the table.

“Ah,” he said. “The famous crossroad. ‘To be or not to be.’”

Henry glanced up and his eyes narrowed.

“We’re not doing Shakespeare.”

“Everything is Shakespeare if you squint hard enough,” Grandfather said.

Henry slumped lower. His sighs were even heavier now.

“The only big decision I made today was whether to eat the last waffle or save it for tomorrow.”

Grandfather leaned back in his chair and asked, “And what did you choose?”

“I ate it,” Henry said.

“Then you’ve already lived your essay,” Grandfather said. “You chose ‘to be.’”

Henry blinked.

“That doesn’t count.”

“It counts if you write it dramatically enough,” Grandfather said. “Say the waffle called to you like destiny calls you. Say the syrup gleamed like a golden sunrise. Say you were brave enough to answer.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“So is life. And somehow, it works out.”

Henry tapped his pencil against the paper.

“You ever make a big decision?”

“Once,” Grandfather said. “I stood at the bus station with a suitcase in one hand and a sandwich in the other. I had to choose which to trust: my future or my appetite.”

Henry tilted his head.

“Which did you choose?”

Grandfather smiled.

“I ate the sandwich on the bus. You can be practical and adventurous at the same time.”

Henry began to write. The pencil scratched steadily across the page as he spoke aloud.

“I had to choose between saving the last waffle or eating it. Some decisions shape history. This one shaped my breakfast.”

Grandfather nodded and said, “That’s the spirit.”

Henry set his pencil down and looked at the paper. He nodded.

Grandfather sipped his tea and glanced toward the toaster.

“Next time, let’s make two waffles,” he said.

Henry grinned.

“Then I won’t have to choose.”

“Exactly,” Grandfather said. “Real wisdom is knowing how to skip the hard questions entirely.”