The Great Pie Debate (and the recipe for sibling peace)
In a mere two weeks, they will land. Mr. Schrock has pulled off his version of a Hallmark Christmas miracle, and on a wintry December Saturday, three blue-eyed sons from three different parts of the country will land in our airport…on the very same flight.
How he managed this is unclear. What is also unclear is whether one cabin can hold three brothers without landing nose first in a snowy field in Tupelo, especially in light of the ongoing debate. (Are two miracles too much to hope for? Time will tell.)
Anyway. Knowing that the locust hordes of biblical fame are incoming very soon, I was being proactive in making meal plans. Hence, the burning question in the family chat, “Two pumpkin and one chocolate, or one pumpkin and two chocolate?” Upon which chaos was unleashed, a deadlock ensued, and the electoral college was invoked.
One brilliant thinker claimed the forty votes for his state, swept up the eleven from ours and parlayed them against the remaining nineteen electoral votes from the other two states. “It’s fifty-one chocolate to nineteen pumpkin!” he proclaimed. Done deal, though not without suspicions of election interference.
For days, the Great Pie Debate raged. At last, I posted a poll, asking friends and followers to weigh in. Citizens from all over the country cast their votes, chuckling as they raised their hands.
“Make two of each!” some friends suggested. I cringed at the math.
Thirty-two pieces of pie is a lot, even for this chomping, chewing crowd. This, especially at Christmas when their list of requests is longer than both my arms and my legs, and their dad is ridiculous in how he spoils them.
As they continue to argue, Mother continues to crunch numbers and plan menus, pressing them for their final Christmas lists. I howled when The Cub, last, but not least, sent us his list. He titled the chat group, “Mom and Dad’s Favorite Child.” Then, he commenced to spell it out.
A light blue mini toolbox from Lowe’s. The bigger Spalding mini hoop (“it’s the $68 one).” An IU bomber jacket, plus a clock and pendant to “spruce up my room a little more.”
Then, in the middle of his lengthy list, he added this. “I guess some things do cost an arm and a leg. But that’s okay. I’m willing to have two-limbed parents.” I waited to howl a second time until he wasn’t around before solemnly informing him that a two-limbed mother would be unable to make his pies. Case closed.
I share all of this for a reason. We do have a tremendous amount of fun in our family. On this side of the parenting gig, with all of them now grown, we have the greatest gratification in seeing the deep, true bonds our sons have. Scarcely anything in this life gives us more happiness and sheer joy than witnessing the love they have for one another. It is breathtaking and, in my experience, quite rare.
However. They’ve not been without their disagreements. Back in the day, wearing your brother’s socks could get you pounded. Calling yourself Dr. Love and offering him romantic advice could, too. They would fight and jockey for position with parental lectures on forgiveness and forbearance.
With two of them in particular, there were hard feelings that developed over the years. Then one of them distanced himself from the family for a long time. Meanwhile, in his absence, the remaining three grew very close. I held my breath when he returned to us, waiting to see if his brothers would receive him, opening their tight circle to let him in.
His first Christmas back was beautiful. With humility, he rejoined the family. He exhibited a graciousness that was healing for us all. His siblings matched him grace for grace, treating him like a king with their famous, made-from-scratch tacos. It was a time of rebuilding and reestablishing relationships. With the living greens, the colored lights, and the sights and sounds of home, it was truly as though a bit of heaven had touched the earth.
On their own, the two who’d carried hidden hardness and hurts made amends. Now adults, they needed no prompting from their father and me. Taking responsibility for themselves and their actions, they apologized to each other, offering and receiving forgiveness. These simple, but difficult steps brought restoration and happiness.
I offer this today with the hope that it will encourage all who find themselves in difficult family situations. Not everyone knows the joy of close sibling relationships or warm bonds with father and mother. Everyone should have these blessings, but not everyone does.
If you find yourself in grief over fractured relationships between your children, hold fast. Do all that within your power lies to be a source of light and love for the warring factions. Refuse at all costs to pit your children against each other. (Yes, this actually does happen.)
Be the first to make amends when needed, the first to open closed doors, and the last one off of your knees. Do these things and just see if some heaven might come down to the place where you are. God bless you.
You can listen to Bo Snerdley and America’s small, caffeinated mom every Saturday morning on the James Golden Radio Show. BYOM! Bring your own mug.