Parallels

Last week I attended one of my in-service days.  It was run by one of our district’s principals and she brought along cookies to share with us.   As we walked in, she pointed to the sign-in sheet, gave us directions toward getting started, and urged us to take a cookie. They had little  flecks of green in them, so I know they were homemade containing zucchini, and you know…not one person took a cookie. 

This stressed me out.  I really didn’t want her to feel bad.  She had taken the time to make cookies for all of us and (probably due to those rotten unwritten rules women have about eating in front of each other) no one was brave enough to take that  first cookie.  As a rookie, I was afraid to take one for fear I’d look like a brown-noser…but there was also that unwritten rule. God help the woman who takes the first cookie if no one actually joins her.

I’m still thinking about it, almost a week later.  I wish I had taken a cookie.

When I was in second grade and in the Girl Scouts, my mom sent finger jello in for our Christmas party.  She put Christmas sprinkles on them thinking it would make them look festive, but it hadn’t worked.  The sprinkles lost their color and got runny on the jello and they looked really pretty bad.  No one ate my mom’s finger jello.  She wasn’t there (she had just dropped them off) so I threw a lot of them in the garbage so she wouldn’t feel bad when she picked me up and saw all that slimy finger jello still sitting there untouched.  I have never regretted that decision (and, for the record, my mom is normally a really good cook).

So today was the Bible School picnic.  Parents of second graders were supposed to bring in salad or vegetables to our Friday picnic.  Unfortunately, I really didn’t give it much thought until this morning about an hour before the picnic.  Ben went with me to the grocery store where I bought some pepper cabbage and baby carrots.  I was thinking it would be a little something for the adults and the kids.  Ben asked what pepper cabbage was, and I explained that it was cabbage, peppers, carrots, vinegar, and sugar mixed together.  He thought it sounded disgusting.  He was worried.  “No one is going to eat that, Mom!  No one puts vinegar AND sugar AND cabbage all together like that!”  I assured him that there were going to be plenty of people there who would enjoy the pepper cabbage.

After the program, we went through the food line and filled our plates.   I didn’t really pay attention to anyone except Jack at that point, who would have walked away with a plate full of chips if I let him.

We sat down at a table and began eating, and eventually Ben said, “Mom. I knew this pepper cabbage was a bad idea.  No one is going to eat it!”  He had put a big pile on his plate.  “Ben!”  I said.  “Why’d you take pepper cabbage if you knew you wouldn’t eat it!”

“I didn’t want you to be embarrassed when no one took any,” he admitted.

“Honey, I didn’t actually make it!  I wouldn’t have minded at all!”

But I have to tell you… this boy who sometimes drives me crazy, this boy who is often mean to his brother, this boy who is filled with insecurities and as a result tends to puff himself up in a socially unacceptable way, this boy who very few really understand…well…this boy made his mama’s day.

And then I ate his pepper cabbage for him.