Stained Glass
Last weekend we held our annual applesauce day. It is a day of celebration of family, autumn,
work and fun. I credit our
daughter-in-law Jammie because she was the one who, after tasting our homemade
applesauce, and hearing that we were going to be making a batch, asked if she
could come and help and learn how to make it.
That first time was a day of bounty in so many
ways. I had gone out the day before and
filled up two big coolers and a couple of five-gallon buckets with apples from
our lone apple tree in the back yard. It
yields fruit every year, but every other year, if growing conditions are just
right, the harvest is especially heavy.
That was a year of plenty.
All three of our daughters-in-law, and all of our grandchildren
(who were born by then) came for the day.
The children were especially partial to the batches of sauce that
Grandma added candy red hots to for flavoring.
I personally prefer my cinnamon natural and straight-up. When we counted them up we had 77 quart jars
of applesauce, so there was plenty for everyone to take home to ensure the
taste of autumn in their homes and on their tables until the next year.
This year when the kitchen island top was full of jars
left to cool and seal, Michelle reflected that the only thing left for this
year was to make grape and cherry jelly.
She had gone out to check the grape arbor and decided that it would be
at least two to three weeks before the grapes would be ready. And when they are ready, she will also bring
up the cherry juice that she drained off of last summer’s Door County tart cherries
as we put them in the freezer. She’ll
make a double batch of jelly – concord grape and cherry spice. She reflected, “Jelly is really my favorite
thing to make. I am never in a hurry to
bring the jars downstairs and put them on the shelves. I like to look at them for a couple of
days. When the sunlight hits them just
right they remind me of stained-glass windows.”
Stained-glass windows were first designed to help
teach the faith to the masses. Each
window depicted a different story from the Bible. They were intended to capture the imagination
of the onlooker and lead their minds and hearts to the transcendent. I thought Michelle’s correlation was
intriguing.
Surely there was the obvious of how jelly is almost
translucent. Sunlight reveals a richness
to the color that helps you almost taste its deep, even sharp, flavor. And doesn’t each jar hold its own creation
story of seed to plant to flower to fruit?
God’s fingerprints are all over each jar, just as they are reflected in
His creation. And Michelle's fingerprints are all over each jar, not unlike the little notation at the bottom of many stained-glass windows noting the people whose generosity made the window possible for others to enjoy. That's why our two granddaughters who now live in Colorado go home from each visit with jars of Grandma's jelly. Yes, it tastes so much better than store-bought, but more importantly, it is Grandma's. It's the connection that makes the taste so sweet.
My favorite mornings are when Michelle bakes fresh popovers. When they are baking I make some fresh
coffee. The popovers are crisp and brown
on the outside and soft and pale yellow on the inside. There is something about breaking them open
and lathering the jelly on them. I may
even bring up a jar of strawberry jam to go along with the grape and cherry
jelly. It will probably be imperative to
try one of each. It is easy in my mind
to imagine the steam and aroma wafting from the coffee cups, the wicker bread basket
piled high with oven-warm popovers, and the stained- glass windows of jam and
jelly. At such a table there is a
natural desire to first join hearts and hands in prayer before the feast. Those are the mornings that remind us to ‘give
thanks to the Lord, for His mercy endures forever’.
His Peace <><
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