He gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark-green tufts. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving stem! Two broccoli-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Broccoli.