Passing (on) the Pie


No really. . . I made these!

 

My first pie making experience was at my Third Grade Thanksgiving “Feast.”  It involved refrigerator dough and a can of pie filling, was served with “ants on a log” and trail mix, and was eaten while wearing a paper-feather headdress.

I never really learned to bake pies until college ( though I think my mom let me dump the pumpkin filling into the crust once when I was twelve) when I helped a newly married friend bake for Thanksgiving.  We made pumpkin, apple, and pecan without any glitches; but hit a whipped cream shortage as the chocolate and banana cream developed.  My friend handed me a bowl, whisk, and carton of light cream.  After an hour of whipping and a few tears, I surrendered to the bowl of liquid.  With no other option, we hijacked her husband’s car and hit the california Freeway to buy Cool Whip.  It was a stick shift.  We both only drove automatic. By the time our mission was completed, we were in hysterics (and probably lucky to be alive).  I learned to make pies.  She learned to drive . . . sort of.   It remains one of my favorite Holiday memories.

I decided this was the year my kids should learn to bake the Thanksgiving pies.  I don’t give-up control easily.  I struggle even more when it involves sticky liquid and utensils with which to fling it.  I took a lot of deep breaths. 

As we made the Carmel Apple pie, I explained my choice of apples and the importance of cinnamon moderation.  For the Pecan; I demonstrated how to split the vanilla bean and break, but not crush, the pecans.  For the Pumpkin, I gave them a bowl and a whisk.  They took turns, flung sticky stuff, and enjoyed watching the custard come to fruition.  By the time they finished they were in hysterics.  I’m not sure they learned how to bake pies, but I hope they will file it away as a favorite Holiday moment.

When my friend taught me to bake pies, she could not have known that  she was ultimately giving me a precious memory with my children.  Sometimes our greatest legacies come in the smallest acts.  The way we cherish the people in our lives, what we choose to pour in to them, how we choose to love them; will trickle down. 

God commanded a number of  Holidays and Festivals and Feasts.  Their purpose was not simply eating and drinking, celebrating and rest.   The Feasts that God commanded were in remembrance; a opportuinity to recall His faithfulness in the Wilderness, abundance in the harvest, victory in the battles.  They were a opporutinity for Father’s to pass on to their children legacies; to teach them the greatness of their God in even the smallest of acts.

Thanksgiving is not a God commanded feast, but it remains an opportunity.  Today as you prepare . . . tomorrow as you feast . . . leave a legacy to those around you.  In word and in deed teach the ones you love the goodness of God.  And always remember to pass the pie.

probably a health code violation

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