For decades, generations of mothers have hand-shaped Mama Love through the Hearth Dance of pie baking. They reached for their flour sack... the first pronouncement that something special was about to occur. The voices of their mothers, grandmothers and great grand-mothers whispered in their head helping call forth the list of ingredients from bins, cupboards and iceboxes. With rolling pin in hand they set forth to lay their lovin' into pie.
Remember those fitful nights where sleep escaped you? In your cozy robe and slippers you tiptoed into the kitchen and stealthily cracked open the fridge. There in a halo of glory sat "the pie" a friend beckoning, offering to join you. With a cup of tea and a generous sliver of pie, you sat on the porch swing, watching the moon walk across the sky. You crawled back into bed with renewed sense of peace, perspective and restfulness. Ahhh... the wonders of pie.
Remember your little kid legs speeding you like lightening across the garden porch in a game of tag with your cousins? Uncle John was in the drive setting up the fireworks. You were out of your mind with excitement. The screen door banged shut and there stood your mom, a dab of flour on her cheek, apron strings untied. In her oven-mitted hands she held one of her famous fresh-out-of-the-oven pies. As light fades to night, she cut you the first steamy piece and offered you a tankard of chilly milk. In moments, you found yourself laying on your back in the grass, under an explosive and sparkling sky, pie crumbs on your fingers and you were filled with pure and perfect happiness. Ahhh... the wonders of pie.
We were given pie as comfort for scraped knees, lost loves and salutations for the homerun hit with bases loaded.
We were given pie as sustenance for our best friends going away party, for the "bad day blues" and at Aunt Gertie's wake, where we ate together, shared memories and stories together, grieved, cried and healed together.
We were given pie after pie after pie in celebration for Joe's return from overseas, for Granny's 80th birthday, for Leah's Bat Mitzvah, for Robert's engagement, for winning first prize at the art fair and for the birth of blessed baby Lilly.
We were given pie of compassion when Sam asked someone else to the Homecoming dance, when our dog was temporarily lost, when our big sister left home for college.
There is something special about the power of pie. It can soften the tension of a family argument, it evokes laughter and washes us with companionship, it heals us- almost as if pie has a divinity of it's very own. Pie is a mother's magical, mysterious, masterpiece that sings a song of longing to our taste buds while somehow filling us with the simplicity of things that matter, the nostalgia of yesteryear, family, hearth and home.
Practically Purchasing Pie
May MY MOM'S PIE bring peace, delight and soul to your home and to all those whom you love.
FIRST choose a favorite pie just for your very own Self. This is the pie you eat with your fingers for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you like, the pie that trickles juices down your chin, the pie that requires lots of napkins. This pie you don't have to share, Shhhh we won't tell- you can even eat it all in one sitting, mmmm mmmmm!
SECOND pick pies for your entire family, personal favorites for the rest of your brood. Remember tastes in pie are as individualistic as you are, choose and share with abundance.
THIRD for every friend and every occasion, Send "love on a plate."
Send Pie Instead...