APD The Value Of A Shovel

Word Count:
457

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I grew up in Florida. I loved my childhood years, and not just because I lived three miles from the Gulf of Mexico. Rather, I loved my childhood because it was quite a normal childhood. I went to school and mostly hated it. I had a ton of friends that I loved to play with for hours and hours on end. My family was great and we made it to the beach as often as we could make time for it. My life seemed perfect, and I was quite sure that it would stay that way. I went to college …

shovel

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I grew up in Florida. I loved my childhood years, and not just because I lived three miles from the Gulf of Mexico. Rather, I loved my childhood because it was quite a normal childhood. I went to school and mostly hated it. I had a ton of friends that I loved to play with for hours and hours on end. My family was great and we made it to the beach as often as we could make time for it. My life seemed perfect, and I was quite sure that it would stay that way. I went to college in Florida and just assumed that I’d always live there. Life has a way of giving us reality checks however. I searched for jobs and found one in Minneapolis, Minneasota. I moved there ignorantly and quickly learned the value of a shovel.
I’ll be honest. The only shovel I had encountered prior to my move to Minneapolis was a small one that my siblings and I used to make sandle castles on the beach. It had snowed a few times during my growing up years, but never enough to warrant the use of a shovel. So my transition to Minneapolis went smoothly until October hit and the snow began falling. It began falling and didn’t stop falling until nearly April. I was warned by a new friend to buy a shovel when the first snow fell so fortunately I was prepared with my tool of choice to battle the winter snows.
I quickly learned the value of a shovel. I learned that a shovel has value because it does something very necessary when there is a pileup of snow or ice: it allows someone to remove that snow or ice and keep on living. I was thinking of the value of the shovel and about how a shovel is way more valuable to people in Minneapolis than it is to a resident of Florida. Most residents of Florida will never have use for a shovel, and therefore, they care little about whether they own a shovel or not.
That is a crazy thing about life and about humans assign value. It seems like we assign value to people and things based on their purpose in our life and based on what they can do for us. Don’t we? As much as we’d like to claim that we are fully altruistic, isn’t it true that we only appreciate a shovel, a medical doctor or even our own mother only when we need that thing to come through for us and do something?
I guess I learned a lot about myself and about the world upon moving to Minneapolis. I learned more than just how to use a shovel.