Sprinkled With Love
When your cookbook arrives, it will be crisp and new
But if you follow your heart, you'll know what to do.
In time you will learn how to "season" your
book,
And soon it will take on a completely new look.
So don't be dismayed by the first little splatter,
As little ones help out with the pancake batter.
Or that bubble of grease that hops onto your page
While frying the chicken in hot oil and sage.
For each crinkled page with a stain and a smudge
Tells a story of how much the cooking was loved.
Perhaps by the cook who was working with care,
Or the kids who "helped out" with their own
special flair.
Perhaps by the sick or those who welcomed a child,
Or the homeless and hungry who ate with a smile.
The stories behind each splatter and spill
Are unselfish gestures of love and goodwill.
While you try and handle your cookbook with care,
Don't be afraid to leave a part of you there.
For the best cookbooks are not on a shelf high above,
But rather those on the counter, that get
sprinkled with love!
by Jenn Stewart
June 2, 2010
June 2, 2010
The Rest of the Story
For nearly a decade our family lived in a small town in northern Wyoming. We still love that town immensely. We raised our daughters there. The beautiful Big Horn Mountains were practically our back yard, and we spent the majority of every summer exploring all the lakes and trails. We once even discovered an old abandoned gold mine there among those tall pines and rocky trails.
The local church congregation we attended decided one
year it was time to put out a call for recipes and create a church cookbook.
Since they knew my flair for poetry, they requested I write a poem to grace the
inside cover of the book. The request resulted in the above Sprinkled with Love
poem. Making dinners for others was a staple in those parts. You couldn’t have
a child, bury a relative, or visit the soup kitchen without someone making you a
good home-cooked meal.
Have you ever been blessed with a meal when you really needed it? I'd love to hear about it in the comments below.
Have you ever been blessed with a meal when you really needed it? I'd love to hear about it in the comments below.
I was stationed on an Army base in California in 2016. Thanksgiving was coming up, but I was trying to pay off some debt and couldn't afford to go home for the holidays. Instead, I planned to stay in my barracks and read, given that everyone I was friends with on base had decided to go home. One of my friends, having got wind of my plan, reached out to a friend of theirs who invited me to come over for "Friendsgiving." They were borrowing a neighbor's house and had invited several service members without holiday plans over to eat food and play board games. It was a meal that I didn't really know that I needed. It wasn't important because of how the food tasted (I can't even remember that at this point), but because it meant that somebody was thinking of me at that time and wanted me to be a part of their holiday plans. As I sit here and think, I remember the laughter and the warmth, and I hope to bring that to someone else one day.
ReplyDeleteYour story warms my heart Brianna! Thanks so much for sharing. I love how you mention "It was a meal that I didn't really know that I needed." I think it is easy to convince ourselves at times that certain things don't matter that much to us, when deep down they do. Connecting with those around us is what fosters our humanity and fills the void in our hearts. I'm so glad that someone was considerate enough to arrange that "Friendsgiving" for you and others in a similar situation.
DeleteThis reminds me of another poem I wrote when I lived near the Ellsworth Air force Base near Rapid City, SD. I made a lot of friends with families that lived on or near the base and who also found themselves alone when their spouse would deploy. Thanks for reminding me of that poem, which I'll share in one of my next blog posts!
Thanks again for sharing such a wonderful story, one I'm sure you will no doubt pay forward someday.