Until today, if I ordered a slice of berry pie at a restaurant, I’d eat it, enjoy it, and think nothing of leaving a berry or two—maybe even three—on the plate. I’m not so sure I could do that now.

Why, you ask? I just spent a week at our daughter’s new home in Idaho, where she has multple blackberry and blueberry plants. Every morning before the heat set it, we’d head out with our baskets, picking berries until our baskets were full. By evening, more berries had ripened, so we’d go out again. We did this every day I was there, and today, the day we are leaving, hundreds of berries still remain to be picked.

At some point during the berry picking I started wondering—if my daughter sold these, how far would they travel before ending up in a pie on my plate? Through the hands of distributors, through markets, delivery trucks, and bakers, all so I can enjoy dessert. And I was leaving berries on my plate?

Not anymore. From now on, if I have berry pie, I’m eating every last berry. And if I’m too full, I’ll slide any left over berries onto my dinner companion’s plate.

I don’t believe conscience will let me do anything else now. It will just seem disrespectful.