My 13-year-old son Gabe has three school friends that have wheedled their way into the heart of our family. These boys are picked on, randomly hugged and kissed, assigned chores, fed, disciplined, family talks and lectures about life lessons include them...you get the idea.
Yesterday, Gabe brought one of these special friends home after school. His name is Tommy. He and Gabe were playing basketball outside when Tommy left the game and came into the house. I heard the back door open and sang out, “Helllllloooo? Who is there?”
He already knew to come over by me for his hug and kiss on the cheek. He said quietly to the floor, “Mrs. Seifert, I’m hungry.” I smiled and told him what we had on the menu today and that was homemade chicken and vegetable soup. I had a moment of doubt, wondering if I should have offered him a salami sandwich instead of chicken soup chock full of vegetables. A big smile slowly dawned on his face and then reached his bright blue eyes. He said, “I would love some.”
I brought Tommy over to the kitchen cabinet and pointed to the bowls and asked, “Are you cereal bowl hungry, soup bowl hungry, or blue bowl hungry?” (The blue bowl is a large salad bowl I use at family dinners.) He said he was blue bowl hungry because he did not have lunch. I served Tommy, what seemed like a gallon of hot chicken soup in the big blue bowl. I put a loaf of bread and the largest soup spoon we owned next to his bowl and gave him a Mason jar filled with milk.
While normally quite talkative, at that moment Tommy was very quiet. All I heard were slurps and “mmmm’s”. A few minutes later he asked, “Mrs. Seifert, could I please have a straw?” I looked at his milk jar and it was empty. Then he piped up, “I need a straw for the broth, this spoon is taking too long!” I found a big straw and had a good laugh watching him siphon soup while he tried not to smile. Just knowing how long it took to make that soup with roasting and deboning the chicken, 12+ hours to make the bone broth, chopping all the vegetables, I cannot even express how good it felt knowing Tommy enjoyed my soup. It made my mama’s heart come pretty close to bursting.
When he was finished, he placed the completely empty bowl in the sink and gave me a tight hug. He rested his chin on my shoulder for just a second, exhaled, said thank you then ran outside to play. I could still feel the indent of his chin on my shoulder and the feeling of his hug on my arms as I watched him leave.
This made me think of my mom. She fed people. There were always bowls and baskets of fruit on every table and countertop in our kitchen. If dad grilled out and we had extra she would invite passersby into the yard for a plate! You know what though? We always had leftovers even after sharing.
Mom called that “The Fishes and Loaves Effect”. She would call out to random teenagers walking through the alley and invite them onto our porch for ice cream and conversation. If you ever came to our house to visit, before you even made it into the living room, a plate of hot food or a taco on a homemade tortilla was at the kitchen table waiting for you.
Mom led by example and she told me her secret. When she had extra she would ask God to send someone hungry her way; people never said no when she offered so it must have worked. Mom said feeding someone is a really good way to say “I love you” or “I care” because actions speak louder than words. That boy’s hug after soup filled me up and brought back so many heart squeezy memories. My cup overflows.
~ By Maria Carrasco Seifert
