Comic strips often entertain us with funny moments, but the cartoonist will occasionally introduce a bit of insight within their colorful panels. This was the case when Jan Eliot provided such wisdom in her strip called “Stone Soup.”
One of the characters is Alix, a nine-year-old, precocious girl sitting at the kitchen table watching her Grandmother roll the dough for a homemade pie.
Alix asks, “Gramma, why do you like to make pies so much?”
Her Gramma explains that when she was a young mother, they did not have much money, but she and her husband had an orchard abundant with pears, apples, and peaches. So, when they could afford only rice and beans for dinner, what lifted her family’s spirits was a delicious homemade pie for dessert.
After hearing Gramma’s explanation, Alix replies, “In other words… before Prozac, there was pie.”
Gramma ends the story with this statement, “That’s what’s wrong with everyone! Not enough pie!!”
Growing up, I recall my grandmother baking pies to deliver to folks who were ill or having a difficult time, or to one who needed to chat with a friend. She regularly baked my brother his favorite chocolate pie and always made a cobbler for my mother when the blackberries were in season. I don’t think I ever visited her when she didn’t bake a pie out of love or compassion for someone.
I remember one summer day, her friend, Mrs. Harris, was ill. First thing on a Saturday morning, we visited Mrs. Harris’s bearing an apple pie full of concern, healing, and affection. Before we left, Mrs. Harris was giggling with her friend and hugging me goodbye.
The tradition of pie giving was passed down from those ancestors who resided in the Tennessee hills to hearts who needed the pie’s restorative power. Aunts, mothers, grandmothers, a few uncles, and even some grandpas inherited the gift of producing a mouthful of joy. My Granddaddy couldn’t make a pie, but he sure could cure a critter with his peanut brittle.
My mom could roll out the best pie crust on the planet. Plus, she had the artistic talent to create the perfect lattice top over her delicious fruit pies. She would serve them warm with a dollop of ice cream. Mom could dry tears and melt hearts with her delicious creations. I once dubbed her the “Queen of Pies,” and to this day, I believe she was.
Friends and family frequently question me, “Lynn, why do you insist on baking homemade desserts? You can go to the bakery and get a great pie or cake and not have to go through the trouble?”
My answer is always, “It’s not the same!”
Generosity, kindness, and joy are only found in the work you go through to create them. Not everyone knows how to bake a pie, but they sure know how to gather flowers, write a sweet note, or hold a hand. When we use extra energy to lift another’s spirit, we deliver healing. When we go to the trouble to love, we dish out trouble to hate.
Our world is a busy place where texting emoji hearts, sad or smiling faces, makes it simple to share our emotions. We are “convenient” happy. Whatever makes our lives easier is the norm. However, our days will become more comfortable when our society becomes less hateful. And a peaceful world can exist only through loving each other enough to take time to be compassionate and understanding. Comforting each other is not about easy; it is about kindness, empathy, and giving.
“Before Prozac, there was pie,” Alix declared.
I suffer from depression, and I understand needing medications for this illness. However, if my family and friends had been too busy to hug me, pray with me, or cook my kids’ dinner through some of those wicked, dark hours, would I have made it? When those compassionate souls took the time to physically aid me, they helped me see a sunny day was on the horizon.
“That’s what’s wrong with everyone! Not enough pie!” Gramma happily tells her grandchildren as she holds her beautiful baked pie above her head.
What if we brought a homemade pie of kindness to the table of hate? What if we calmed anger with a dose of warmed goodness? What if we used more of our energy to create more empathy?
Then our grandchildren would learn, just like I did from my grandmother; when we take the time to create love, we might witness healing one pie at a time.
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About the author: Lynn Gendusa is an author and columnist whose work appears weekly in newspapers in her home state of Georgia. She is regularly featured in the USA Today Networks around the country, including, The Tennessean. In addition, her stories appear in senior magazines across the US as well as in Guideposts. Lynn Gendusa’s latest book is “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith.” She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com
