Inspiration Words: Remorse and Plate
Ellie pulled another sweater over her head and put on her coat. Then, she wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled a hat over her ears. She was nice and warm inside, but the moment she stepped out into the gray day outside, she knew the cold would seep through her clothes quickly.
Thanksgiving Day, and here I am going to class. Ellie heard an alarm on her phone go off, telling her it was time to leave as she shoved her feet into her boots. At least I only have morning classes today, but still. It’s a holiday.
As she waited for the elevator, she felt her phone buzz. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart. Ellie’s eyes started to fill with tears, but she brushed them away. She had cried enough already this morning, and she didn’t really want the wind hitting wet cheeks.
Thanks Mom, she replied to the message.
Love you, and hope you have a good day today.
Ellie stuffed her phone in her teaching bag. It was better not to think about her family getting ready for Thanksgiving. Her grandparents and cousins were already in town. Grandma would be looking for someone to tell her stories to. Ellie’s old room had been converted into a guestroom, and she knew everyone would be exchanging news from the past year and playing games all evening. Mom would put the turkey in the oven—
Ding! The elevator doors opened, and a blast of cold air hit her as she walked outside.
What am I doing here? In her heart, she knew she was exactly where God wanted her. She had become close friends with several of her students, and she was so happy to be able to love them and make a difference in their lives, but it was hard to remember all that God was doing when her heart missed home. Is this worth it? Remorse seeped into her heart as the cold air forced its way down her collar and up her coat sleeves.
Her phone buzzed again, but she didn’t take her hands out of her pockets to check it until she got to class. When she did finally glance at the message, once again, her eyes filled with tears.
*****
Qunying (choon yeeng) closed the oven door and adjusted the timer. Another thirty minutes before she’d have to add another layer of seasonings and butter to the turkey. She glanced at the clock. Already 3 p.m. Only three more hours before everyone would arrive. Before then, she still needed to do the potatoes, the salad, something about a green bean casserole—Oh no… the bread! Qunying lifted the towel where her bread was supposed to be rising. Good, she hadn’t missed it.
First, I’ll finish the bread. Qunying tried to hum, but her mind was too busy organizing everything she had to do to focus on a song. Maybe she could turn on some music. Nope, her hands were already dirty. And besides, there was no time. As she finished arranging the rolls on the baking pan, she realized she couldn’t do the bread now because the turkey was still in the oven, and there wasn’t room for anything else. Oh well, the dough should be fine until the turkey finishes . . . I hope so at least. As long as the turkey is good, nothing else really matters, right? She glanced into the oven at the turkey that had consumed every waking hour and several of her nightmares over the last several days. Last night, she had been ready to give up on that horrible bird, but she knew her American friends would love to have a turkey for their Thanksgiving celebration.
Qunying thought about their faces and their excitement when they would walk in the door. She had never cooked or even eaten turkey before, but the young teachers that came to her house for games and dinner once a week had mentioned how much they loved turkey on Thanksgiving, so Qunying had splurged (and it was a splurge!) to buy one for the occasion. This morning, one of them had said there was a new American teacher at her school, and Qunying had agreed to let them invite her also. It was going to be a full house.
A couple hours later, Qunying stooped over a bowl of potatoes and mashed them feverishly with a fork. Only one more hour. I haven’t even started the salad, and there’s still that box of stuffing, but I think that should be fast. Suddenly, Qunying nearly cried out at the sharp pain in her back. She paused for a moment with her hands on the table, unable to move. After a few moments, she stood slowly and tried to stretch the aching muscle.
“God, you know I’m trying to give a blessing to these American teachers and friends,” Qunying prayed aloud, “but why did You allow this pain to come now? Can’t You please make it go away?” She tried to do some slow stretches, and the pain slowly lessened. She needed to sit down and close her eyes, but there wasn’t time.
She left the potatoes and started washing the lettuce for the salad. Qunying’s husband came home, but she didn’t notice until he put his hands on her shoulders.
“It smells wonderful in here!” He said and reached toward the turkey that sat on the counter.
“Thank you, can you help me? My back hurts, and I can’t finish mashing those potatoes. Can you mash them with that fork?”
At 6:15, their guests began to arrive, and Qunying was relieved they were a little late. After directing her husband to put out the plates, Qunying slipped into a back room to put on a fresh shirt—one that wasn’t stained with turkey grease and specks of mashed potatoes and milk.
When she returned to the kitchen and living room, Qunying had a smile for everyone and hugged the new friend named Ellie, who looked like she was about to cry. Qunying hoped the food would make her happier. It must be hard to be away from family on a holiday, she thought.
As everyone sat around the table, Qunying was thrilled that everyone was pleased with the food. She encouraged everyone to eat more, and they all did. They showered her with praises, and she thanked God for these friends and for the ability to bless them with food. She felt like her ministry of cooking and sharing food with friends was small, but hopefully she could encourage these people who were so far from home.
After dinner, they each shared what they were thankful for, and Qunying blushed when the first person thanked her for all the delicious food.
“I’m thankful that my students are still willing to work hard to study English—sometimes they’re done with the semester by this time!” one of the Americans said.
“I’m thankful for some really good friends this semester, and I’m thankful that I don’t have as many classes as I did last semester so I can see my friends a bit more,” another teacher mentioned.
A quiet voice spoke up. “I’m thankful that you all invited me to come today. This is my first Thanksgiving away from my family, and I was really missing them when I got your invitation to come.” Ellie’s voice broke as she shared, and she looked down at her hands. A moment later she continued. “You have no idea how special this dinner has been, and I’m so thankful to be able to enjoy this time with other people who love this holiday. And of course, thank you, Qunying, for your generosity and your delicious food!”