Holiday Recipes: Gently Blend Grandma’s Past Into Your Child’s Present
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These are those powdered sugar cookies you see in the stores, but they taste more divine than any other I have ever tried. I don’t think they are Polish in origin, which makes me love my Grandma even more. Searching for other cultures through recipes seems to run deep in the genes.
Walking around the book store yesterday I wondered how many people still put chunky cardboard books into their toddler’s dimpled chubby hands.
I hope we don’t lose that tradition.
This won’t be the first tradition you will hear me yearn to preserve. Yes, I am one of those.
I hope we move forward with big technology. But only as a means to spend more time doing the small things we love every day.
I hope we read blogs and share photos of foods we cook. But only if we save enough time to set the butter on the counter to soften for baking cookies.
I hope we continue to grow and learn about different cultures, the struggles they face, the hardships that exist globally. But only if we keep our feet in the trenches and our minds set on what we can control in this moment.
These are huge challenges. Brick and mortar stores of all types are going out of business all over America.
Two dimensional screens seduce us with expectations of faster results.
We dip into the global news stream for a morning sip of communion and come away feeling even more parched.
We try to use technology, but technology uses us instead.
But only if we give up.
If we keep trying, what can happen?
We can refuse to surrender to despair.
We can get up and bank our family of phones and look at one another.
We can cream that softened butter we set out.
Listen to the sounds of silence.
Let that awkward lull pass.
Your brain will reboot.
Watch the butter and sugar blend together with a wooden spoon. It looks and feels just like the one our grandparents used.
Mix the past and present together.
We don’t know how the future will turn out.
Will those cookies taste good?
Will they burn?
Will the memory be better than the real thing?
The touch of the wooden spoon.
The sound of the egg shell cracking.
The smell of the vanilla.
The sight of your hands in the dough.
The taste of your past.
That is your present.
Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
Thank you God for Grandmas and recipes and stories and books and You, the glue, that binds us all together in goodness.