“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart,
it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.”
The doorbell rang and I did my best to dust the flour from the front of my shirt before I responded. Yeah, that only made it worse. Ah, well. I didn’t really care that I was a mess because the house smelled wonderful.. apple pies, a pumpkin cheesecake, and two loaves of banana bread…were baking in the oven.
The repairman walked in and inhaled deeply. “Cinnamon?” he said.
“Among other things,” I replied.
“Niiiiiice,” he said, and smiled.
And that’s the thing about baking. It fills our senses to the top and then spills over in big fat puddles of joy.
One apple pie, still hot and bubbly, went to our neighbors who live just south of us because they provide so many kindnesses over the course of a year.
The other apple pie found its way to the neighbors to the north of us. They, too, act with generousity and thoughtfulness over and over and over.
The cheesecake and banana bread will travel with us to my daughter’s home for Thanksgiving. A batch of cookies went home with my son tonight.
In a world ripe with anger, chaos, and fear, the simple act of mixing sugar, flour, eggs, and spices brings near-magical comfort.
For me, baking is the connection to past, present, and future. My grandmother was an excellent cook and baker. My daughter has become one as well. We are linked by our desire to create, share, and love.
As much as I would enjoy giving each of you, my readers and friends, one of my special cookies or other homemade treat, I probably cannot.
Just know I am extremely grateful for your interest and kind words over this past year. You are the inspiration to keep going, growing, and showing up.
Happy Thanksgiving from my heart to yours.
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