Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie
This year of pies is winding down fast! As I thought about that the other day, a person came to mind who I had not yet acknowledged for giving me some good advice about gifting a pie. That person probably didn’t even think much about the advice he gave at the time, but it has proven to be valuable on several occasions.
One of those moments occurred last year when I baked a pie for a man named Dave who was recovering from a stroke and staying in an assisted living facility. Before I brought Dave the pie, I had an appointment to see Mark. During our preliminary chat I told Mark that I had made Dave a pie and then I told him that I was concerned about bringing Dave a pie as his diet might be regulated due to his condition. That’s when Mark told me, “Go with your intuition – you made Dave the pie, now just bring it to him. Don’t over analyze it! If Dave can’t eat it, he will give it away.” Simple words with a great message.
After my appointment, I did bring Dave the pie. He was thrilled by the visit and the pie – which he did eat a little of before sharing it with the staff. Over the course of the year when my mind was fixed on a pie recipient, and then somehow I began to second guess my decision, I would think back to Mark’s advice and “just bring them the pie.” I was never disappointed with the outcome.
Tonight I would like to thank Mark for helping me see the simplicity in the process of giving away pies. I would also like to recognize Mark for being such a good friend and mentor to my son, Coco. We are all so very grateful for his friendship and support.
You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.
Yesterday afternoon my friend Katrina called and told me some news about Dave, a man that we both know. Dave has the “downtown Ashland” postal service route. He delivers mail to all the businesses downtown and to some residential customers as well. Late last week Dave was walking his normal delivery route accompanied by a supervisor when suddenly he felt something was wrong. His supervisor quickly called for help and Dave was whisked off to the hospital because he was having a heart attack!
How lucky for all concerned that Dave was being shadowed that day on his route; surely angels were at work with him. Some may call this a coincidence… but I read Squire Rushnell’s book, and he calls coincidences “winks from God.” I love that explanation; it gives greater meaning to our lives when we can find “nods” from the universe.
Today I visited with Dave and his wife and daughter. Just so you know, Dave will not be eating the quiche that I brought as it is far too rich. Instead, I suggested that he might try some carrot sticks or chicken soup. The quiche is meant for his family; so that they can be nourished and able to take care of Dave.
Dave’s wife, Laura, mentioned that a three-year-old child that knows Dave sent him a note with this message, “I am sorry your heart broke.” This child knows that something went awry, but has been told by his mother told him that Dave would just need time to get better.
Dave, we are sending love and good wishes your way for a speedy recovery.
“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”Albert Einstein
Today I attended the memorial service of a wonderful man named Dave. Dave was beloved by many and the church was filled with many folks who wanted to pay their respects to him and his family.
Our pastor read from Ecclesiastes 3, “To every thing there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to be born and a time to die.” Hearing these words help to soften the blow that death brings.
However, I was more moved by the words that Dave’s granddaughter Dana read for they seemed to suggest that though our reality may have been changed by Dave’s passing, he is still as vital as ever.
The poem she read, written by Henry Van Dyke, follows. I hope it gives you the same comfort that it gave to me.
“In a beautiful blue lagoon on a clear day,
a fine sailing ship spreads its brilliant
white canvas in a fresh morning breeze and
sails out to the open sea. We watch her
glide away magnificently through the deep
blue and gradually see her grow smaller and
smaller as she nears the horizon. Finally,
where the sea and sky meet, she slips silently
from sight, and someone near me says, ‘there,
she is gone!’
Gone where? Gone from sight. That is all.
She is still as large in mast and hull and
sail, still just as able to bear her load.
And we can be sure that, just as we say,
‘there, she is gone’ another says, ‘there, she comes!’.”