Today is April 22, and on this day in history… well, the world celebrates National Jelly Bean Day. A small thing, perhaps. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of wars and empires and cosmic dust. But isn’t that how most of life is lived? In the small moments, the tiny bursts of sweetness that punctuate our days.
The jelly bean’s origins trace back to the 1800s, when Turkish delight met American manufacturing ingenuity. Civil War soldiers carried them in pockets as portable comfort. William Howard Taft tossed them during his 1909 presidential campaign. Small candies that somehow found their way into pivotal moments of human connection.
I was thinking about this while watching the light change on the mountains this morning. How something so simple – sugar, corn syrup, and a bit of food coloring – could become such a cultural touchstone. We’re drawn to these little ephemeral pleasures, aren’t we? The momentary burst of cherry or licorice or buttered popcorn that dissolves almost as quickly as it arrives.
Ronald Reagan kept a jar on his desk in the Oval Office. The most powerful man in the free world reaching for something that cost pennies to produce. There’s something profoundly democratic about jelly beans – available to nearly everyone, bringing the same simple joy to presidents and children alike.
I wonder if that’s what we’re all searching for – not the grand gestures or monumental achievements, but the reliable small pleasures that remind us we’re human. The Japanese have a concept called “mono no aware” – the pathos of things, the gentle sadness in their impermanence. Maybe that’s why we celebrate these tiny candies today. They don’t last. They’re meant to disappear. Their very transience makes them precious.
History books won’t record how many jelly beans you ate today. But maybe they should. Because life isn’t just composed of wars won and fortunes made – it’s built from millions of ordinary Tuesdays, small kindnesses, and simple pleasures that sustain us through the darkness.
So today, while governments negotiate and markets fluctuate, millions of people will reach for something small and sweet. And in that moment, across time and space, we’re connected by this humble, human desire for a little brightness in our day.
Not a bad legacy for a little bean-shaped candy, when you think about it.
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