Sidewalk Prophets

My mom is not what you would call an amazing cook. She tries very hard, and she often does a great job. Last Christmas, we had some roasted lamb. Mom had never cooked lamb before, and it tasted awesome. The next day I got terribly ill, but the night I ate the lamb I was feeling good. My family always gives mom a hard time about her cooking, but tonight I was feeling a little nostalgic thinking about Thanksgiving. I wanted to share the two main reasons that I am thankful that my mom is not a master cook.

Story one entitled, “What’s that smell?”

Senior prom is historic. Memories are made that will last a lifetime. My most vivid memory of my senior prom was actually my mother’s cooking, and I never even had a bite! My date was a good friend. We were on the speech team together and decided to go to prom a few weeks before it was to occur. I am convinced my prom date had a crush on me, but I shall never know.

I picked my date up in my sweet ride, my very first car, a Dodge Caravan, or The White Wildebeest, as I liked to call her (the van, not my date). Anyway, we decided to take pictures before prom at our homes. That way we didn’t have to spend money on outlandishly priced 5x7’s later. Upon arriving at my house, all appeared well. Mom came out and snapped some pics, and we were almost on our way. Then, she decided that my date and I needed our picture in front of the fireplace inside, my date agreed. Little did she know the horror that awaited. When the front door opened… it happened.

“Ummm, what is that smell?” my date asked. “That smell” was my mother’s creation that night. Mom explained that she had run out of spaghetti sauce and decided to try something new. She mixed up a bowl of spaghetti noodles and then the fun began. She decided to add in some mayonnaise and the secret ingredient, salmon! What filled the air, after the experiment came to fruition, will live in the history of my nasal passages foever. Salmon spaghetti had turned my date’s smile into a frown. We held our breath while the fireside pictures were taken and hurried out the door to meet our friends at a restaurant.

And here is why I am thankful. That meal was never intended for us, nor was the smell, but that smell took away our appetites, and neither my date nor I could eat a bite at dinner. It was the cheapest date I have ever been on. I also mentioned that my date may have had a crush on me. After salmon spaghetti, all the romance in the air was gone. I’m not sure that I ever slow danced with my date at the prom. And while that may sound sad, I am thankful and realize now that God never intended that girl for me. For the girl I intended to wed shall be made of stronger and more amazing stuff then salmon spaghetti.

Story two entitled, “I didn’t know there was fruit in this!”

Thanksgiving is a wonderful time. Time for friends and loved ones to gather and remember the blessings that God has given. And for my brother and I, it was a time to eat our Aunt’s amazing cooking. Her dishes always are the first to go. Mom’s on the other hand…

Don’t get me wrong, Mom is great at making a turkey. She can cook some mean noodles (just don’t put salmon near ‘em). She is great with stuffing. And someone in our family loves her broccoli casserole, even though I never go near it. But Mom’s true forte is dessert. She is awesome at baking cookies and muffins and great with pies of all kinds. So we were excited when Thanksgiving dinner ended, and it was time for pumpkin pie!

Mom would often set the desserts in the garage on top of the freezer just so she could save table space for the turkey and fixings. My uncle agreed to go grab the desserts and bring them into the kitchen. When my uncle saw the pies he exclaimed, “Wow Sis! These pies look great. I have never seen a pumpkin pie with fruit in it before!” My mom looked concerned and explained that she never put any fruit in the pies. “Well, Sis,” my uncle explained, “there is definitely some raisins in this one.” My mom looked closer and her face sunk as she realized the raisins in her pie weren’t raisins at all.

It was an unseasonably hot Thanksgiving that year, and mom had cooked the pies the night before and left them in the garage. A mixture of time, heat and pumpkin pie leaves another cooking attempt gone awry. “Those aren’t fuzzy raisins,” my mom said, “that’s mold.”

This is why I am thankful, after my grandpa was shown the pie, he laughed so hard the house shook. I can’t remember a time when our entire family laughed so hard. Mom’s frown turned into laughter as well, and we all realized that though there was no dessert, there was plenty of laughter, love and leftovers to fill us up.

This Thanksgiving, I offer an apology to Mom for airing her cooking misfortunes. She really is a good cook, until she tries to experiment. To this day, I know that those pumpkin pies would have tasted great if the mold was extracted. And this is why I am thankful, because despite her cooking woes my mother gave us some of the most wonderful holidays a child could ever have. She and my father filled our home with love and patience and grace displaying to my brother and me a glimpse of the love of God. So on Thanksgiving when things go wrong, when the turkey burns or the plates break, when words are carelessly flung or pain comes back to haunt, I pray that you will hold onto the blessing of your family, the beauty in the pain, the bounty we need to give away, and the hope of a God that gave His son so that we could give thanks. In joy and sorrow, love will remain. And if you come to Indiana and stop by our place, you never know what’ll end up on the table, but love is all around.