Chocolate Is a Medicine
Chocolate is the best medicine and no prescription is needed:)
In our family, chocolate isn’t just a snack or a treat, it’s much more than that. We don’t just like chocolate, we speak chocolate, trade in it. It’s practically a currency. A beautiful box of high-end chocolate? That’s the best gift you could possibly give us. Show up with a glossy box of fine chocolate, and you’re family.
So when my sister-in-law was coming to visit us from South Moravia, where, in summer, the temperature rivals the surface of the sun, she knew she had a mission. The mission? Deliver the sacred chocolate. The challenge? Get it here in one piece, not as a tragic puddle of cocoa goo, but she’s resourceful. Oh, is she ever. She packed the chocolates like she was handling radioactive diamonds. A sturdy box, lined with ice packs on all sides, gel packs hugging the flanks like Secret Service agents. The chocolate was safer than most politicians. Vienna Airport, here we go.
As her luggage went through security, or rather, didn’t go through, it was stopped. A stern-faced officer motioned her over.
“Whose luggage is this?” the officer asked, one eyebrow slowly arching in perfect dramatic fashion.
“Mine,” my sister-in-law replied, with the innocence of someone who thinks ice packs are a totally normal thing to fly with. The box was opened. Out came the ice packs. Out came the gel packs. The security officer stared at it all, eyes narrowing. And then she asked the question that made us laugh for days:
“Is this a medicine?”
My sister-in-law blinked.
The officer leaned in, clearly expecting an answer. “Is this a medicine, ma’am?”
She hesitated. It was chocolate. Of course it was chocolate. But the officer’s expression was serious, the kind of serious that comes with latex gloves and long forms.
So, after a brief internal moral debate that lasted all of 0.3 seconds, she smiled sweetly and said,
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Very well,” the officer nodded. “You may go.”
And just like that, chocolate was officially upgraded to pharmaceutical status, somewhere between aspirin and a miracle cure. Later, as my sister-in-law and brother walked through the airport terminal, victorious and still in possession of their precious cargo, they burst into laughter. People stared and they didn’t care, the chocolate was safe. The mission was a success. And when they told us the story, we all agreed on one undeniable truth:
Yes. Chocolate is a medicine.
Of course, the only problem with medicine is always the dosage. But maybe, just maybe, if we thought of chocolate this way, as something therapeutic, joyful, medicinal in spirit, we wouldn’t feel so guilty enjoying it. We’d savour it a little more, smile a little wider, and maybe even heal a little faster.
From now on, every time I reach for a piece of chocolate, I remember this story. And I whisper to myself, like prescribing it to my soul:
“Chocolate is a medicine.”
And you know what?
I think I feel better already, it taste great.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy your next bite of this brown medicine….
Marie
