A Mountain of Green Beans   Another envelope in the mail. There's my name, Alexander Spencer, typed on the front. I throw it under the bed. The piles of envelopes are growing. The envelopes were applications to all the colleges I was supposed to attend. I did open the first envelope. Then I saw the application, all those blank spaces I was supposed to fill with my own writing, spaces for my name and birth date and grade average and ... statement of purpose. I looked at them for a long time. I could write for hours and not fill all those spaces. So I put the application back in the envelope. I would fill it out the next day, when I had time. But another envelope arrived. And then the pile began. The pile scares me -- it is really like a monster. All the while, I feel the weight of a million envelopes raining down on my head until my grandmother calls me and wants to know how I am. "I am overcome by too many tasks," I say. "Honey, you just take it bit by bit," she says, and she reminds me about the green beans. When I was a little kid I hated green beans. But my mom said I couldn't leave the table until I ate ten green beans. All alone at the table, I stared at the green beans for what seemed like hours. It was a mountain of green beans. I couldn't do it. My grandma came to me and asked if I could eat one green bean. "But Grandma, I have to eat ten!" She said all I had to do was to eat one green bean. One tiny little green bean. So I ate one. It was bad, but not as bad as I'd thought it would be. Then she asked me again if I could eat one. So I ate one green bean nine more times. My grandma doesn't know about the envelopes, but she tells me anyone can do one thing every day. Back in my room, I lay down on the bed. Just like I used to do when I was a little kid, I hang my head down to look at the pile of envelopes. There it is. But instead of a monster, I see a pile of green beans. Who's afraid of green beans? What does the author learn from the story of the green beans?
A good start is half done. Actions speak louder than words. A long journey begins with a single step. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.