Junior Mints

This month we celebrate 14 years of Tim.  I wrote the following story when he was five years old and reprint it now for his birthday.

It's the same every week.  If he sits quietly in church, sings when we sing, stands when we stand and keeps his clothes on,  he gets two quarters.  Holding the shiny currency in his five year old hand he beats it out after the last "amen" for his idea of true revival.... the candy machine.  Big sister has to help him reach the numbers but he can do the rest:  choose his favorite, push the buttons and open the candy door.

Ahh, the perks of faithful church attendance.

While I went about my busyness at church this past Wednesday, he went about his business of convincing me that his behavior had earned him "THE REWARD".  Though I don't publicly make statements on the benefit of candy training a child in the way he should go, I find that after 20 years of parenting preacher's kids, my private belief is "whatever works." "Okay" I said,  "Just see if you can find someone to help you and come right back." 

As I sat down with a friend to discuss an all important issue of life, where to find good Chinese food, I noticed my boy peeking around the corner of the door. The normally chatty kid stood speechless, speaking volumes with his face while his hand covered a bulging pocket. I was curious but decided to let him have his "secret".

When we arrived home the mystery continued. He informed me that I was not allowed in the living room. After he was in bed,  I smiled as I picked up scissors, tape, and wrapping paper from the living room floor.   

Sunday came. It was Mothers Day.  That little five year old could contain himself no longer.  He bounded up on the bed and handed me his well-kept secret rolled in Spiderman Christmas wrapping and encircled five times with black electrical tape.  As I worked to open it, he was on his knees beside me, anticipating my joy.  As I tore the last remaining layer of wrapping I saw two familiar words.  Junior Mints.  My favorite candy. They were all melted together at the bottom of the box because of the hand that had held them so tight but even this seemed fitting for he had melted my heart with his love.

When it came time to pick his favorite... he chose me.

I still have that box of Junior Mints in my freezer and a generously loving son by my side. Happy Birthday Tim.

little bites: the guacamole cup

Growing up in San Antonio meant growing up part Mexican. Don't get me wrong, I remember the Alamo and the hard fought battle for Texas freedom but even Crockett must have been a little distracted when the smell of corn tortillas came wafting over those mission walls. If someone patented that smell as a perfume, I would buy it. Nothing smells better to me than an authentic mexican restaurant preparing masa in a fryer. By far and away, the best of the best is Teka Molino in San Antonio.

As a little child I felt that this restaurant was simply an extension of home. It was only a minute from our house and I can still remember being allowed in the kitchen to watch the machine in the back make the best tortillas in town. That was over 40 years ago. 

A decade ago on my yearly trip home, I walked in there, as I always do, to get a guacamole cup----a homemade cup made from fresh masa that has been deep fried to perfection and filled with creamy guacamole and a perfect shredding of lettuce. I have never found another restaurant in all the world that even has these little babies on their menu-believe me I've looked! 

To my surprise, standing behind the counter wearing that familiar white apron was the same man that used to let me visit the kitchen as a child. Here I stood at the age of  41 ordering a guacamole cup and feeling 8 years old again . 

Maybe it was the smell of corn tortillas fresh from the oven; maybe it was a feeling of nostalgia, maybe it was the anticipation of my pending annual guacamole cup..... Whatever it was, sentimentality overtook me and I decided to ask him for more than food.

At this time in my life I was wondering if the mundane things that seemed to dominate my every day existence were really making a difference in my world.  I said, "Sir, you don't know me but I know you. I've been coming in here to eat your tacos for decades. What is it that keeps you doing what you do, day in and day out for so many years?" He got a big grin on his face and said, "Where else am I going to get a free cup of coffee!"  

He will never know how much he helped me that day. He thinks I saw a man doing life in a little restaurant making the same food everyday for over 50 years. What I really saw was a role model of endurance doing mundane tasks with the right heart attitude.....that's a hero. I left that day with a guacamole cup and a side order of contentment.

(Mr. Chapa, the owner of Teka Molino who maintained his post behind the counter for over 50 years has passed away but they are still making great guacamole cups at Teka.  I do not live in San Antonio therefore I am on a constant quest to perfect them in my own home. As soon as I do, you can bet I will share them with you here in honor of Mr. Chapa! Maybe next visit they will let me into the kitchen.)

littlethings bakeshop now open!

I am a long-time student in the bakeshop of little things. I am the mother of a preschooler and a grandmother at the same time. My daughter and I swap babysitting service as well as car seats and child-rearing advice. I'm still at the starting gate at the age of 51. (a smiling sigh)

I have been given five children, not in a neat little row but doled out over the course of 25 years. This means that my entire adult life has been lived with a little person by my side whose attention span (and mine by implication,) is no longer than 5 minutes long....(what was I saying? I can't remember).

I have not graduated past Hop on Pop.
I still go to places where I can color on placemats.
I have lived through 3 decades of Sesame Street.
Give me the three point sermon so I can remember one; Cut to the chase in your story and serve me food I can eat standing up because five minutes from now I will be taking someone to the potty.

I live life one itty bit at a time.

Make no mistake, this is not me complaining. This is me laughing--laughing at life that comes to me in ways I never expect but loving the big, ginormous God that gives it to me in small, manageable bites. He makes me feel my own littleness, not in a bad way, but in a "sheltered from the storm" kind of way.

You will find me poking fun at myself and I feel sure I am not done making mistakes, but thank goodness I get to hand Him a clean plate every morning and anticipate something good or at least good for me. What will He dish out today and how will I respond? Those two questions are little and huge at the same time. His daily work and my attitude toward it are probably the littlest biggest things in my world.

So come on in and celebrate the small with me. It's the fragile, little things of life that take our breath away, make us smile, give us a reminder or pause us for prayer. It may be a quote, a thought, a verse, a happening in the day or even some real baking.....you can be sure, whatever it is, it will be in a small bite and you will be able to get on your way. And oh, by the way, share a little thing back because I listen real big.....(at least for the next 5 minutes).

One little breath

One breath. A little thing packed with lots of power. How do I want to use the next one?  I had to give it some serious thought yesterday as the preschooler in my life multi-tasked around my weakened knees  I figured I had at least three choices:

1. Hold it until I turned blue. Not a good idea. Headaches usually follow, and I would probably feel immature.
2. Let out a good scream. Momentarily effective but after a few of these, the shock value wears off and it won't work anymore.....(been there.)

3. Send a stream of bubbles into the air. Hmm.

Yesterday I chose bubbles. The result?      Breathtaking.

I used my next breath to thank God for the little girl in my life.