When I was a young girl, a terrible accident befell my family and the world turned upside down. Relatives congregated in our home and all of our neighbors and friends stopped by to lay our table with food.

We were quickly inundated with a deluge of soups, casseroles and every type of baked good you could imagine. Nothing made sense to me, including these edible offerings. I asked my Grandmother, “How come everyone is bringing us something to eat?” She thought for a moment and said, “Because, honey, it’s the only thing they know to do.”

We lived in a small farming community of good neighbors, family and friends.  For several weeks, folks came knocking on the back door laden with heartfelt gifts of sustenance and succor: It was comfort food. Sometimes words simply can’t convey the message that comes through a plate of brownies or a loaf of homemade bread.

Oddly enough, I don’t recall the details of my first days back to school, or the multitude of thoughts running through my head and feelings through my heart. Nor do I recall precise moments of sadness and fear. What I do remember is the food, and although the flavors don’t linger, the memory does.

Honey baked hams showed up in various forms in my sack lunch for weeks and there was always something sweet waiting for me at home. Someone made a cherry cheesecake ~ that was a first for me. There were several tuna casseroles, fried chicken, fruit salads, roasted meats, and vegetable dishes. Bags of potato chips and candy filled the cupboards.

10 years ago, on September 11th, 2001, a terrible tragedy befell our nation; so many lives were forever changed and worlds overturned. My two year old daughter was looking forward to a trip to downtown Chicago and cried when those plans abruptly changed. I put my keys back in my purse, turned on the television and picked up the phone.  She asked, “Why?” I didn’t have the right answer, so I gave her a pop sicle at 10:00 in the morning ~ and she felt better. 

I can’t help but imagine the food that family, friends and neighbors were preparing for those who lost someone and were profoundly affected by the attacks on our country. It’s all they knew to do.  I can only pray for the victims and their families and hope that some of those same dishes are being shared in memory and the celebration of their lives and their love for each other.

We’ve recently learned of the passing of several people in our lives; and although we weren’t close to them on a deeply personal level, they are family of friends we care for very much. So, since words simply can’t convey our sincere feelings of sympathy for their loss, I’ll be dropping by with a nice pot of soup.   It’s all I know to do.

God Bless The United States of America!