Mickey was in her garden tending her plants. She turned the rich soil with her hands meanwhile being carressed with comforting smell of dirt. The soil had filled her fingernails and had dyed her hands making them an even darker earthy bark color than they were before.

She forced her hands farther down into the soil and felt the fragile roots of her bean plants; they were just beginning to sprout. The beginning of life was a special thing to experience for Mickey. Even if it hadn't been a human life that was sprouting. Mickey thought about how often the little things in life were always taken for granted. The sprouting of that bean meant that the soil was rich. It meant that life was still happening and that things were still living. It meant that eventually, someone would have something to eat on a dry plate and perhaps live for another day. The life of that bean, represented the human lives of seven billion others on the planet. Someone had to be rewarded...