I’m a strong believer in the old proverb that says that “What goes around, comes around.”
It might be a way of the Universe of re-balancing itself or simply the way things work on planet Earth. I’ve witnessed countless examples where both good and bad actions have found strange ways of ricocheting until they went back to where they had originated, closing an imaginary circle.
Now that we are empty nesters, cooking in big quantities doesn’t make any sense for just my husband and I, but I still love the satisfaction that comes from looking at a table covered with food that I have prepared, or at a big batch of orange marmalade, wondering what I would do with all that preserve, way too sugary for us to eat often.
The solution is easy: I give my food away. I choose special occasions to plan dinner parties so that I can cook for an army of friends, without worrying of eating too much because my guests gladly do that.
As for preserves, I’ve found out that marmalade, jams and jellies make a very welcome gift. I give a jar to the hostess when I’m invited to a dinner; I send a couple of jars to a friend who lives far away; and I bring some to my neighbors, especially the elderly or the single ones.
It’s a special little thing that says that you care because you are willing to share what took you a lot of time and labor to make.
That’s why my friends and neighbors are always delighted to receive it, especially because it comes with a very good deal: I tell them that they can exchange the empty jar with a full one.
I’m pretty sure they think that I’m making them a favor while in reality they are making a big one to me because I love making preserves, and a lot of empty jars are the perfect excuse to keep doing it.
Obviously, I don’t expect anything in return. Materially, that is, because when I see gratitude, surprise and joy in the eyes of the receivers I’m more than satisfied.
However, as I said, somehow the balance needs to be re-established and, once in a while, I get to be surprised with unexpected gifts as well.
One day I received a phone call from a stranger who said that she had heard from a common acquaintance that I love wild mushrooms and she happened to have too many chanterelles that she had picked that morning. Would I like to have some?
Of course I would!
She was at my doorstep ten minutes later, with a beautiful basket of the biggest chanterelles I had ever seen. I told her that I didn’t even know they grew in our area, especially in that season.
We chatted for a few minutes, getting to know each other, both of us surprised by how much we had in common. Since she wouldn’t accept any money, I went to my cellar and took a jar of my peach/lavender jam and a good bottle of Italian wine, feeling happy that I had some good bartering items at hand.
The same woman came back a few months later. This time she had some freshly picked morels. Did I, by any chance, know how to cook them?
Her timing was perfect. I needed some distraction from a family issue that had been bothering me for a while and I was home alone, mulling over it.
She refused to come inside because of her muddy boots (she had just come back from the woods where she goes picking mushrooms), so we stood on my porch, talking until she had to leave. I didn’t let her go empty-handed, though. A few days before I had made my last batch of orange marmalade, having run out of the previous one in a couple of months.
After that second visit, I couldn’t stop thinking about these small – but big for me – wonders that happen in my life.
I must say that I’m particularly lucky because I’m blessed with wonderful friends and neighbors, like the one who gave me a book on antique roses to thank me for the pleasure of walking by my garden and enjoying its beauty, or another one who leaves her hens’ fresh eggs on my porch just because I let her pick herbs from my garden. Then there’s Bill – my gardener – who never forgets to bring me a big bag of vegetables every time he visits his brother, an organic farmer.
I’m grateful to these people not only for their gifts but because I get to feel what the others feel when they receive my goodies, even if they are not the same persons to whom I gave my homemade treats. And what marvels me the most is that it always happens at the right time, when I least expect it but I need it the most.
My story isn’t about giving and expecting something in return. It’s about the pleasure of giving and the mysterious ways we have to connect by means of mushrooms, marmalade, fresh eggs, books, vegetables, which in the end are symbols of love and kindness.
So get in the habit of cooking something special and sharing it with friends and neighbors. Make those Christmas cookies even if it’s spring and give them away. Bake a cake and give a generous portion of it to your widowed neighbor. And if cooking isn’t your specialty, buy a small gift for a friend, even if it’s not a special occasion.
One day, when you least expect it but need it, it will come back in the most unexpected form.
