I was holding a roughly skinned fruit, rolling it back and forth between my palms. In my hands, I held an ugly fruit. I was in the awe-inspiring country of Jamaica, where rain is liquid sunshine, and nothing less. I was filled with dread, as I anticipated a rancid taste, considering the name. I stared at the fruit a while longer, dreading the moment I would open my lips and let this foreign fruit into my mouth. I closed my eyes as I brought the fruit closer to my parted lips. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when the sweet juice exploded in my mouth, the flavor bursting on my tongue. I turned my head and gazed into the field next to me. I had an image of myself running freely through it, basking in the ambiance of the ugly fruit. I came back to reality and reluctantly passed in the fruit to the person next to me. At that moment, I remembered a widely taught lesson. Don't judge a book by it's cover.