The Best Bet I Ever Made Was on Peanut Butter and Jelly

By Kenneth Braswell, CEO, Fathers Incorporated

I’ll admit, I chuckled when I first heard there was a National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day. Really? A whole day just for PB&J?

But the more I sat with it, the more I realized it deserves a day. Not because it’s America’s favorite sandwich. Not because it fed us through childhood, school lunches, and midnight cravings. Not even because it’s cheap, easy, and hits every time.

It deserves a day because — at least in my life — it was the doorway to a moment that would shape everything that came after.

I’ve told this story in books, at conferences, and to my daughters. But every year around this time, it finds new meaning. Because while peanut butter and jelly may seem simple, the PB&J sandwich represents one of the most profound truths I’ve ever lived: Seeing someone’s potential is the highest form of love.

There was a time — far from a highlight reel moment — when I was low. And not just low in money or job prospects. I was low in spirit. Uncertain. Unanchored. Just trying to make it through the day without breaking down. 

During that season, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. We were just catching up, sharing small talk, and pretending everything in my world wasn’t on fire. Then she said, “We should get together.”

I paused. The honest kind of pause. The kind that says, “I don’t want to lie to you, even if the truth costs me your respect.” So, I looked her in the eye and said, “Honestly, I don’t know when that’ll be a good idea. I’m not working. I’m struggling to pay my rent. I don’t have two nickels to rub together. Matter of fact, the only thing I have in my house right now is peanut butter and jelly.”

That was it. Raw truth. No sugarcoating. No mask.

She smiled and said, “Peanut butter and jelly?” I braced for the judgment. The polite backtrack. 

Instead, she said, “Well, I love peanut butter and jelly.” And just like that, the universe cracked open. 

We planned a date. Nothing fancy. Just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with cold milk. Two slices of bread, two spreads, and two people — no pretense, no pressure, just presence.

That moment became one of the most important of my life because she didn’t see me for where I was — she saw me for who I could be. She didn’t bet on my bank account. She bet on my potential. And I’ve spent every day since trying to make sure she wins that bet.

There’s a meme I once saw that said, “When someone bets on your potential, make sure they win.” I took that personally. Not because I owed her but because I honored her. She saw something in me that I had almost forgotten was there, and that recognition — that belie — became the foundation of everything we would build together.

That’s the thing about peanut butter and jelly. It’s simple, yes. But it works because it comes together. On their own, they’re fine. But when they meet, something better is born. Something that lasts. Something greater than the sum of their parts.

Some like it with more jelly. Some like it with chunky peanut butter. Some cut it diagonally. Some eat it crust and all. But no matter how you slice it, the beauty is in the combination.

Just like people.

Peanut butter and jelly reminds me that love isn’t always fireworks and grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s a sandwich on a quiet afternoon. Sometimes, it’s not about impressing someone — it’s about revealing yourself. And sometimes, the most remarkable connections begin with the simplest truths.

So, on this National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day, I invite you to think about the people who saw your potential before you believed in it yourself. 

I also challenge you to be that person for someone else. Believe in someone. Bet on their better self. Accept the peanut butter season of their life, knowing that the jelly might just be around the corner.

Because when two different things come together — with grace, love, and a little faith — beautiful things can happen. And who knows? It might just be the best bet you ever make.