Seconds
Wendy, my farmers market teacher/spiritual guide, taught me so many things during my first three years of Saturday mornings at the market: how to really savor a peach (add alcohol), that corn is best enjoyed in September (eating any earlier is a risk you take upon yourself), and that seeing babies, puppies, and friends on a Saturday morning at the market is what it’s really all about.
My favorite lesson Wendy taught me is about “seconds.” Seconds are the recently harvested fruits and vegetables that don’t look so hot—the bruised tomatoes, the slightly browning squash, and the just-barely-starting-to-wilt greens. Market vendors typically put seconds in boxes under the tables to sell at the VERY end of the day, and usually at a discount only if they run out of the perfectly shiny and glossy tomatoes.
I was always on the hunt for discounted vegetables and fruit so that I could have as much as possible to either cook with or share at our own (free) market at Sunday Supper Church. Wendy thought that seconds could be a great solution for buying large quantities affordably, and she happily taught me seconds etiquette.
Wendy instructed me to walk up confidently and kindly, simply asking the farmers if there were any seconds I could purchase for my church. Now if this sounds easy to you, it’s because you are hip and cool like Wendy. I am not. I am awkward and weird. The first time I asked Al, who works at one of my favorite farms, if he had any seconds, I’m pretty sure he didn’t know what to make of me. I had asked very quietly, under my breath, while nervously looking around.
You got any … seconds? *Wink Wink*
Al was like, Wendy, help on aisle 6, please!
And Wendy from across the market was like, Sorry Al. She’s all yours. I did my best.
Most likely on that first day, Al took pity on me. Or maybe he just wanted me away from his table as quickly as possible. Because he told me that he kept seconds in the back of his truck just for this purpose. And, if I could find his truck on the next street over, I could take a box of produce for free.
Oh my gosh, I’m laughing so hard reliving this memory! Al was 100% trying to get me away from his table, probably because I was scaring his other customers. “Go find my truck,” he said like you say to a child you’re trying to distract.
Well, you better believe I did just that. And then I proceeded to ask as often as possible on Saturday mornings for any seconds that Al, or Kevin, or Rocio could offer. As long as I could muster up a wink and a handshake, we were in business. One Saturday, Kevin, who runs a beautiful farm just outside of the city, gave me his phone number and told me to text him on Thursdays so that he could plan to bring a big box of extras to the market on Saturday, just for me. I mean, that first time I saw a box of seconds at the market with my name on it—I almost died. (That’s most likely what the entrance to heaven will look like, right?)
Anyway...
If I were a preacher, I would have created a sermon illustration about seconds and used it every Sunday.
But my sermons don’t really tell people what to do. And also, let’s not abuse the produce any further, ok? It is already sitting alone in a truck waiting for someone like me to just TAKE THEM FOR FREE. The last thing they need is a manipulation of their purpose.
But also...
Seconds are exactly who I want to be. Seconds are my inspiration.
The problem, though, is that I act and think and center my life around being the perfect peach.
I make all sorts of choices to not appear bruised, to hide my wrinkles and fat rolls and pain and insecurities. Sure, I’ll show you a few intentionally curated hardships in my life, so you don’t think that I’m too perfect—because those people are super annoying. What I’m really hoping for most, however, is that when you see me, you’ll think highly of me and that you’ll choose me first.
But the magical thing about seconds is that they are real, alive, gorgeous. And they’re gifts.
I remember crying the first time that Kelly and I walked up to Al’s truck and I saw all of those boxes of seconds that he had filled specifically to be gifted to those who were hungry. I was so caught by the emotion, as if Al believed that only the seconds were worthy enough to be shared with the hungry.
I never feel more gratitude than when I’m cooking a meal made with seconds. I marvel at how I’d normally toss them away, or look away from them at the market. But this time, as a glorious meal appears before my eyes, the wilting and bruising makes it even better than the shine.
Imagine being a second, a human so alive and real that the striving for authentic connection with others isn’t about showing just the shiny parts. What if the great gift of life is to show the bruising and wilting, and to be chosen and loved and preferred because of these things?
This turned into a sermon illustration, didn’t it?
Amy Dolan is the host of the Feeding People podcast and also the Founding Pastor of Sunday Supper Church, a faith community centered around food + justice. Amy believes the best part of life is enjoying beautiful food at magical tables with family + friends. Through her online cooking classes, Amy aims to show that local, delicious food can be cooked by and enjoyed by all.