“Blech!” she exclaimed, spitting the red candy into the palm of her hand and making the sort of face that only a four year old can. “Pop Pop! It’s hot!“

Her grandfather chuckled. “It’s been sitting on the kitchen table all day. It isn’t any hotter than anything else in the kitchen.”

She tilted her head to one side. “No! Not that kind of hot!” She thought for a moment. “Not hot like the sidewalk gets when it’s summer, Pop Pop! It’s hot in my mouth, but not hot in my hand…,” she explained—an intelligent child with a limited vocabulary.

“It’s spicy,” her grandfather supplied.

“It’s spicy,” she repeated, trying on the word as though it were a new pair of rain boots. “Yeah, Pop Pop, it’s too spicy.”

He took the candy out of her hand, smudging its red cinnammon coating all over his fingers. He put the candy into a glass of water that had been sitting by them on the table.

To her, what happened next was magic. The water turned pink and the candy turned white as she watched in awe.