The Gratitude Project: Day 11

Last night I baked some fresh herb bread to have with dinner, and my husband and I both loved it! I used a new recipe, always a bit of a gamble, but I was quite pleased with the finished product. The only change I will make for next time is to include a bit of garlic powder to give it a bit more of a savoury flavour. And that bread is, in part, what inspired the following:

1. Fresh-baked Bread -- Any kind of bread, whether plain old white or whole wheat, sweet-sticky cinnamon buns or savoury cheesy breads -- if it has just come out of the oven, it is to die for! Not only does it melt in your mouth, it also makes the whole house smell heavenly! I could almost make a meal of bread, perhaps pair it with some cheese and wine, and to me it is a feast!

2. Dinners with Extended Family -- Despite the noise and chaos, and occasional tension between certain individuals, for me family dinners have always been a looked-forward-to event. Of course, there are occasionally awkward moments when your aunt insists that you must have been tanning in a salon because she just can't fathom that your skin tone is that even from the two weeks you just spent in Haiti, or the uncle who nibbles at all the food before it has been served, but all in all it is a time of connection with the people who have known you literally all your life -- and even though the connection sometimes isn't as "deep" as one would like it to be, there is still a comfort in knowing that this is your family. And above all, seeing the look of joy and satisfaction on Grandma and Grandpa's faces as they see their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all interacting in their home, seeing the family that they have created -- this is absolutely priceless.

3. My Mennonite Roots -- As a kid I just assumed that all the world was Mennonite, because all the people in my immediate world really were. I grew up in small-town Saskatchewan, among the fourth and fifth generation of Mennonites who had originally settled in the area after immigrating from Central and Eastern Europe in 1885 and 1895. So "being Mennonite" was really nothing special to me; all it meant was that we'd eat faspa and have a meddah-schlope on Sundays (I'm probably butchering these spellings, but any Mennonites out there will probably understand what I'm getting at), and that we most definitely went to our Mennonite church and always sang in the most beautiful harmonies. Now, as an adult, I can see the beauty of and the value in their pacifist lifestyle (no, not passive, but peacemaking) and their commitment to following the lifestyle of Jesus to the best of their ability. Of course, they do this imperfectly; we are all imperfect realities of the values we hold. But the more I learn about Mennonite history (beginning, really, with Martin Luther, then the Anabaptists, and finally Menno Simons), the more inspired I am to live a life of integrity -- and honoured that I have parents and grandparents who model this way of life for me.