Last week, I wrote about Zoë’s cousin Bruce and his request for lemon drop cookies. To be honest, I have never made them before. I figured they could not be that hard to make, but it was one of the things he remembered about his wife who had passed away. So the morning he was leaving, I woke up early and began making lemon drop cookies and quiche he had requested.
I knew this was exactly what he had wanted this holiday season, so I knew he was going to be excited. What I was not prepared for was the depth of his response. He had no idea I was going to make him two quiche to bring home, along with a myriad of other leftovers from Christmas breakfast and lunch. So that in itself excited him. I am not sure he expected I would actually do this for him.
Then I handed him one of the four dozen cookies as they came out of the oven. He looked at this cookie and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. You would have thought he was five. He just stared at it, inhaled the aroma of this fresh baked cookie, felt the warmth of it in his hands and then he closed his eyes, blessed it, and gave thanks. Then and only then did he take that first bite and out of nowhere came this sound out of his mouth that sounded as if he was having some of the best sex of his life. Tears were flowing down his face and all he could say was “This is so good it is making me leak. I feel like I am having an orgasm in my mouth. It just keeps exploding with flavor.” The tears continued to flow and the sounds continued to come with each treasured bite as if this was the one and only cookie I had made him. When I told him, there were about 47 more I was packing up for him, he stood up, reached over me in my wheelchair and hugged me as if there were no tomorrow.
Clearly, this was far more then just a lemon drop cookie. This was love. This gift ministered to him in a way I am not even sure he could explain. It was the healing I knew he needed. It was clear these were not just cookies. His last visit I had sent some cookies home with him and he shared them with his daughter and grandkids. These cookies, no they were his; these were not cookies to be shared. They were to him like precious memories and moments in time that he wanted to savor and treasure. They were not just cookies.
For me his response is one of the reasons I love cooking so much. I am not sure I want to do it for a living, but I love doing it for those I love. Every time I see someone experience something I have created with the guidance of the Infinite, I am reminded of a conversation between Ram Das and one of his teachers.
Ram Das: How will I know God?
Teacher: Feed people.
Ram Das: How will I become enlightened?
Teacher: Serve them.
This was certainly what happened to me as I fed Bruce cookies. I came to know God on a deeper level and became enlightened in the process. What Bruce and I shared that day was about more then just a cookie. It just was.