Angel Hair Pasta

I gave her a hand-carved antique piano key. My brother and his family gave her a nice handbag and bath salts and hosted a delicious birthday meal. My sister and her family gave her printed family portraits and Amelia made a beautiful birthday cake. But out of all of the gifts she received for her birthday this year, my mom’s favorite birthday present was a box of pot-sized angel hair pasta.

One of the dishes that my mom always makes the grandkids is spaghetti. It’s easy and all of the grandkids like it, so it has become an expected go-to every time the kids come to visit.

While some people leave their spaghetti noodles the length of the box, my mom always breaks the noodles in half so that they fit in the pot. Evidently, Amelia noticed my mom doing this the last time she was here and took note of the struggle that it can be to get the noodles evenly broken and in the pot all at the same time.

So when Amelia and her mom went shopping for birthday cake supplies last week and Amelia saw a box of pot-sized pasta for the first time, she immediately knew that she wanted to buy it for her Nana.

It doesn’t matter that we already have a box of pot-sized pasta in our cupboard. It doesn’t matter that we usually use vermicelli instead of angel hair pasta. It doesn’t matter that the gift cost no more than $2. What matters is that that box of pot-sized pasta was exactly what my mom needed to feel loved. Amelia had seen my mom, recognized her need, and sought to fill it without thinking twice.

Isn’t that we all desire? To be seen, recognized, and loved exactly where and how we are?

I doubt it’s a box of pot-sized angel hair pasta, but what is something that you have received at just the right time recently? Who is someone who has seen you and given you something priceless—whether that gift be something tangible or something we cannot see?

…


Now take that gratefulness, turn it around, and find your own box of pot-sized angel hair pasta to give to someone this week. Do it for Amelia. Do it for Love.