An orange without options

It was an afternoon, on some plates were gathered fruits, and one was an orange. The lady handed the orange by the right hand. Gesturing friendly and warm smile, she said to me: "here, please have it".

I stared, grinned a little and shook my head. It was a no. I would rather claim it as a polite no. Alas, my mom touched my back with her left hand and slowly moved it to my right side. She insisted a command to get me handing the orange without words. I glanced a little to her and took the orange from the lady then I said: "thank you."

I had never wanted the orange. None said I had have enough food that afternoon or I was not about tasting the sourness nor the sweetness it might contain. Despite cleared up what I had in mind to dismiss it, I was forced to gladly accept it.

Have I ever had any choice to or not to accept the orange?

God knows I was quite not good enough of options. But did He ever let me choose by dicing the destiny to let me have parents who showered me with options?

I never knew.