Adventure in the Blink of a Coconut's Eye

There is something particularly exciting about the little eyes on a fresh coconut.  Through them, I can see a wonderful land of adventure lying just ahead--bright, but still just a little bit hazy in the distance.  Perhaps those little eyes actually do give me the power to see the future for just an instant or perhaps (more likely) I am just remembering the adventures that I have had while opening those first two fresh coconuts.

I rather like trying new things, so when my mom heard that coconut milk was healthy and asked if I wanted her to get a fresh (I almost said live) coconut, I agreed readily.  By the time we got it home, my excitement was mounting.  A quick search on the internet garnered me about ten theories on how to open a coconut, but I had no clue which was actually best.  So I gathered all of the suggested tools that were handy--knife, ice pick, turning fork, and hammer--on the kitchen counter and began my operation.

Operation Coconut was strikingly unsuccessful at first.  I tried the turning fork, but its tines were not sharp enough to pierce anything and were too close together to fit the eyes of my coconut very nicely.  The ice pick looked quite promising, I thought; but it was not strong enough to do any material damage to that coconut.  It was tough!  I poked the knife in the direction of the coconut a few times, but it make very little dint in that strength.  Finally, I decided to call in expert assistance.

Mom got a screw driver to round out the ensemble of "kitchen tools" to be employed in our quest for coconut milk.  Using the hammer, she pounded the screw driver through those beautiful little eyes.  And, rather than seeing my adventures closed with their demise, I saw the beginning of delights.  A quarter cup of translucent coconut milk awaited my taste.  It had a full, strong flavor with the savor of coconut . . . and a receding sweetness . . . and just a hint of the bitterness of its husk.

I sincerely hope that all of the adventures awaiting beyond that tiny door, the eye of a coconut, have a similar flavor.  That I might live life to full with the strength to enjoy every moment . . .  That it might have an intensity of purpose and feeling that might be savored after the best moments had passed . . .  That it would be exceedingly sweet, especially in the quiet times . . .  And that the bitterness of disillusion and grief, of reality in a fallen world, might only touch the edges of my experience . . .  Oh, Lord!  I pray that life would be such an adventure!