One winter morning, a colorful poster appeared in the school hallway, instantly catching attention. Bold letters hovered above tidy images of bowls filled with spices and sweets: “You Must Pick One Flavor: Your Answer Reveals What Kind of Person You Are.” Cinnamon, peppermint, cocoa, cranberries—each choice invited curiosity. What began as a simple quiz for the winter festival quickly warmed the space. Students lingered, laughing and debating, and even teachers joined in, defending their favorite flavors as the hallway buzzed with life.
Maya, usually quiet and quick to avoid crowds, stopped to look. The week had been hard, and she often felt unseen. Yet the flavors felt comforting, almost familiar. Cinnamon seemed cozy, peppermint lively, cocoa soothing.
Then she noticed orange and clove, a pairing that reminded her of winter nights at home, when her grandmother filled the kitchen with gentle, spicy warmth. Without hesitation, Maya wrote her name beneath “Orange + Clove.”
That afternoon, the art teacher announced a new project: a “Flavor Personality Wall.” Each student would add a note explaining their choice. Nervous but curious, Maya wrote, “Orange + Clove: Warm, hopeful, and quietly strong.” As she stepped back, she noticed classmates reading her words. One smiled and said, “That’s beautiful—I chose cinnamon because it feels like home.” A brief conversation followed, and for the first time in a while, Maya felt noticed.
By festival day, the hallway had transformed into a vivid mosaic of colors and reflections. Visitors wandered slowly, reading memories and emotions tied to each flavor. Standing nearby, Maya realized the poster hadn’t defined anyone—it had simply invited them to be seen. And sometimes, that small invitation is enough to spark connection, confidence, and kindness.
