Grab your hankies

Fair warning. The story I’m about to share might make you grab a box of tissue.

I spent Sunday morning wrestling the Demon Baby and the Jealous Toddler, trying to keep them from crawling around the pews and screaming, “Mommy, GO!” at the top of their lungs. At the end of Mass, I was a bit of a wreck, mentally chastizing my husband for leaving me to deal with the minions alone while he drove his father back to Raleigh.

In the parking lot, I saw a familiar face, a woman I’d met a few Sundays before. She has a daughter in my son’s religious education class. When she saw us, she said to her daughter, “Look, there’s your friend!” I smiled and took my son over to say hello.

Darling Son was sulking since I’d given him the Evil Eye during Mass, threatening bodily disaster if he continued swinging on other people’s arms during the Our Father prayer. He wouldn’t say hello, so I apologized on his behalf. I offered a friendly grin and said, “He’s just mad because he got into trouble at church. These guys can be a real handful.”

The woman gave a half-smile and said, “I only have my daughter.” I remarked that she was lucky because two children were a real adventure. I added, “I wish my husband were here so we could divide and conquer.”

A wistful smile crossed her face. “I wish my husband were here, too. He was killed a few weeks ago.”

Stunned doesn’t begin to describe how I felt for her. I didn’t know what to say except, “I’m so sorry to hear it. ” Tears welled up in her eyes and she said, “This holiday is going to be really hard.” Looking down at her daughter, she remarked, “Today is her fourth birthday.”

I just about started bawling with her. How do you tell a four-year-old that her daddy won’t be there to celebrate her birthday? That he won’t be there to see her on the school bus to kindgergarten, or later walk her down the aisle? How do you explain that?

The woman said, “Now I’m glad I just have her. I don’t know know what I’d do if I had two children.” I replied, “At least you have a part of your husband with you always.”

After we left, I talked to my son in the car and asked him to be very kind to the girl. “She lost her daddy,” I explained. “He’s gone to heaven.”

“Don’t worry, Mommy,” he said with a smile. “I’ll go find him for her.”

***
And on another note, by popular request, here’s the Derby Pie recipe:
1 single baked pie crust (you can bake at 450 for 9-11 minutes. Prick the crust generously to avoid bubbles).
3 eggs
1 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. flour
1/4 c. melted butter or margarine
2 tablespoons bourbon
1/2 tsp. vanilla
3/4 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 c. chopped pecans
Topping:
1/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 c. whipping cream
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
2 teaspoons bourbon

In a mixing bowl beat eggs until well-blended. Add brown sugar, 1/4 cup flour, butter, 2 tablespoons bourbon and vanilla; beat until blended. Stir in 3/4 c. chocolate chips and pecans. Pour into cooled baked crust. Bake at 350 F for 25-30 minutes or until filling is set. Cool. In a small saucepan over low heat, melt 1/4 c. chocolate chips, stirring constantly until smooth. Drizzle over pie. Refrigerate until serving time. Just before serving, beat whipping cream with powdered sugar and 2 teaspoons bourbon until stiff peaks form. Top tart with whipped cream. Garnish with chocolate dipped nuts, if desired.

**Michelle’s note: I prefer serving the pie warm from the oven. You can top it with the bourbon whipped cream while it’s warm. It tastes just like a warm chocolate chip cookie.