I'm taking a break from pie-mania today in order to give my friend Mary Ann an opportunity to share a Christmas memory with my readers. Mary Ann was born and raised Old Order Amish, and many of you may already follow her blog in which she shares wonderfully crafted stories from her childhood and beyond. One thing I love about her stories is that no matter what kind of family you come from, almost everyone can identify with how she and her siblings viewed the world as children. So many times her stories make me want to yell out "Me too! That's what I would have thought!" In that way, she is crossing cultural divides and telling the stories that we all have lived and treasured.
This is Mary Ann from A Joyful Chaos Monica asked me if I would be willing to do a guest post for her and I was happy to consent.
The Christmas season seems to bring out the best in people. For a few weeks every year people are friendlier, a little more patient, there is a little more goodwill towards their fellow men.
With a woodworking shop, we used to be blessed with more fudge and fruitcakes than we could possibly eat, presented to us by happy customers. Most times we would sample everything and feed the rest to the chickens. One year, we were once again overwhelmed with a flood of fruitcakes of every shape and size. After sampling all we cared to eat, my brothers asked our parents if they could have the rest. My parents were happy to give them permission and the fruitcakes disappeared.
On Christmas morning when we exchanged our gifts those fruitcakes appeared again, but were now transformed. They had taken them and let them set for a few days to dry out and then sprayed them with lacquer. They looked surprisingly pretty with their glossy finish. They could now serve as doorstops, bookends, and a footstool. We got to enjoy those fruitcakes for a long time. So now when ever I see a fruitcake, I no longer groan. I have learned that you can transform almost everything in life to something good if you try hard enough. Even a fruitcake.