A Silly Essay About a Gummy Worm Friend

I first saw it there on the sidewalk a couple weeks ago – the bright red/orange stripes of the gummy worm confirmed it had only recently arrived at that patch of concrete near the bench and the bike rack. It felt so shockingly out of place to my eyes among its drab surroundings – the vibrant color clashed against the beige/brown/gray of the sidewalk. It kept my attention and brought a smile to my face, though I couldn’t say why.

I assumed it wouldn’t be there long, thought it might be gone when I walked by the next day. I’d pictured some bird noticing it and picking it up, whether in confusion that perhaps it was a real worm (and being – in my mind, pleasantly – surprised by it’s very different taste), or with the hope that it would provide a functional and fashionable use in its nest somewhere above. Maybe a squirrel would make off with it, unsure of why. I wondered if I was the only one to notice it and it might get trampled and kicked and moved from the general flow of foot-traffic on that sidewalk. Though I hoped against it, my imagination even allowed the thought of a little child picking it up to eat – and then I included an attentive parent quickly stripping it from the child’s eager hand and throwing it away.

But it was still there in the exact same spot when I walked by the next day. And the day after that. And the day after. I started looking for it each day, conscious of the spot ahead of me as I walked to the metro from work every evening. A whole week, and nothing had changed, except the vividness of the gummy worm’s colors had dimmed a little from dust.

The weekend came and, as happened roughly 2 minutes after I walked away from the worm each day, I completely forgot about it. I didn’t think of it once. Monday morning, I went to work, my mind full of the must-do’s and worries of the next 8 hours. But as I walked away that evening, I came to the spot of the gummy worm, still there, perfectly molded in its trademark S curve, just as it had always been. My shock surprised me – it was a mixture of surprise that it was still there; surprise at how exactly the same, yet so very different it was from the last time I saw it; surprise that I even cared so much to notice it. The worm was still in perfect shape, with no damage to its body, completely whole. But oh, how different it looked all covered in dust, with tiny pebbles sticking at random points! The reds and oranges that first caught my eye, so stifled under the accumulated dirt of the street, now dulled and dreary to the casual passer-by. A glory that the World was slowly snuffing out.

I chided myself for being so delicate, but I was heartbroken for the worm – for the 20 seconds that I remembered it. But, as it had been everyday before, my worries of crossing the street, catching the train, making it home took over my thoughts and the worm’s plight was quickly forgotten in light of more pressing (and dare I say legitimate) concerns.

Still, I continued to look for it each evening as I left work - and it continued to be there when I passed. I wondered if it could ever be moved, or if it would just become a permanent fixture to that sidewalk – it’s own little monument, in a city of monuments. And I worried that it would be there always, until one day it wasn’t, and what if when that day came, I didn’t notice? What if the day it disappeared from the sidewalk, it also disappeared from my mind, from my memory? Would I grieve? Would I even remember?

But in all my brief daily musings, I hadn’t considered the possibility of yesterday. Yesterday, as I drew near to the worm’s place, I noticed a change – the worm’s shape was somewhat deflated, and it seemed surrounded in a soft halo of brilliant red and orange. A call to its former life, and yet still an old, grey gummy. Two lives at once.

The gummy worm was melting.

Yesterday was hot and humid, for apparently the first time in weeks, and Nature attacked that gummy worm with its might. Knowing first-hand just how wilting DC humidity can be, I knew the poor worm hadn’t stood a chance against it. While it would not be affected by Man, one cannot fight Nature.

And yet. Its life was slowly fading away – no, not fading, radiating brilliance as it slipped away to another form. The gummy glowed in testament to the vibrancy of its resilience and its absolute beauty. The dirt and dust of the street could not overcome the worm’s true qualities. In the World, all things must end, but the World will not End them. I felt inexplicable strength and peace as I watched the gummy worm’s end come in brilliant pools of colorful glory. No matter how the world may try to cover me or hide my light, it will still be there in me, and it can break through however many layers may try to block it out, as long as I am true to myself and confident in who I am.

The gummy worm was gone today. I drew close to the spot, searching for the familiar shape, and the sidewalk was clear. No bright colors dying the sidewalk stones, nothing at all to say a gummy worm had lived a lifetime there. I worried that I was looking in the wrong place – had I missed it? Was it further down the sidewalk? Did I really not remember where it had been these many days?

No, I knew – it just wasn’t there.  And I allowed myself a small smile – rich in complexity of sorrow and peace and joy. As much as I missed the dependable sight of my friend, I joyed in its escape from monotony. It was no longer stuck – it was now on the move, whether as a tangible being or muddled in the air and moisture around me, perhaps it didn’t matter. It was free from the weight of that sidewalk and could set its sights on greater futures, and I walked away knowing that perhaps I could be free to, as well.