Humble Pie

I’ve heard it said, God speaks through other people, and quite often not necessarily gently. It seems, you haven’t been listening, so he has to hit you over the head to say…

            PROSPECTIVE SUSANNAH…KEEP IT ALL IN PROSPECTIVE!

This was the case yesterday as I hurried home with a Key Lime Pie a friend baked for me, annoyed that not only do I now have a pie in a cooler no less I can’t eat I’ll end up giving to the doorman, but she made me pick it up.

I’m from Connecticut where all gifts get delivered by the gifter.

So I’m muttering to myself, sweat pouring off me in the..now do you believe in…Global Warming heat, when a mom, dad and a child in a rather big stroller come towards me.

They stop to get something from a bag draped over its handles, when I see the little boy who’s around 6, has no hair. He blinks at me in the harsh sun with a face so sad aimed straight for my heart.

It dawns on me the little guy is sick, not that anyone is mewling about it, including him, though he wasn’t your average kid having a grand slam summer either.

The mom smiles. “It’s pretty hot out here.”

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to stare at her son.

She then starts putting sunblock on his hairless head. “He won’t wear a hat,” she says, “so every few blocks he gets a little.”

The kid who you know has been through much worse, stoically sits with that same look as if to say, why can’t everyone just leave me alone.

I then notice his father keeping a supportive hand on his small shoulder maybe thinking, I wish I could just take him to a baseball game.

Me and my pie want to cry, now ashamed, when it nudges me and says, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Maybe he’d like me.”

“Do you like pie?” I ask him.

He perks up.

“Ah-ha. Well, I have one here a friend baked for me as a belated birthday gift I can’t eat.”

“How come?” he asks, speaking for the first time.

“I’m not supposed to have sugar.”

“Then why did your friend make you a pie?” From the mouth of babes.

“Good question,” I say, now wondering this myself.

Just then one of my doormen go by as mom is applying more sunscreen.

Since he’s bald too, he says, “Hey, could I have a little a’ that?”

The kid loves this as his mother squirts some in his oversized hand.

As we’re all about to leave, the kid says, “What are ya gonna do with your pie?”

“Hush now,” says mom, “that’s not polite.”

She looks embarrassed before saying, “He loves dessert.”

I’ve heard it said, God speaks through other people, and this time did it sweetly, as I stroll home with my doorman who never knew just how close he came to a homemade pie with…

Happy Birthday Lolita, blazing across it.images.jpeg

Lolita…very funny.

SB

 

 

 

 

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in dessert, Family, food, grace, Health, humanity, humor, inspiration, kids, Love, New York City, parents, words and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

54 Responses to Humble Pie

  1. Grumble pie turned into humble pie! Hooray for you and a boy who loves dessert!! You are both winners.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    A perfect pie story, Susannah. I agree that gifts should be delivered by the gifter. An exception might be if the gifter was an elderly shut-in who made the gift.
    I love that the pieless doorman asked for some sunscreen, too. I’m sure it made the young boy much more willing to get slathered.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. ruthsoaper says:

    You have a heart of gold.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sorryless says:

    Your story cakes the pie, which is standing in (sub-limely) for cake.

    As for you, young lady. You take the pie, the cake, the whole nine yards.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Clever Girl says:

    Pie. is. good. like. God. is. good.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Dale says:

    Awww… that way a beautiful story, Susannah. If you can’t eat it, then who better to give it to?
    My husband’s favourite was key-lime pie…

    Liked by 1 person

  7. aFrankAngle says:

    Another example why I enjoy your writing … and you have quite the heart.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Vasca Beall says:

    That Key-Lime pie wasn’t ‘pie in the sky’…it was the real thing. Just lookin’ at it would have that boy politely drooling. I could just envision he and my basset friend, Lulu, sitting together devouring that pie. Lulu was a pie thief. She could steal it right under your nose w/o losing a single crumb. God is so expert at putting THE person in exactly the opportune place at exactly the perfect moment …the boy ended up pie eyed…I betcha’. Good hearts abound and your story was sub-Lime.

    Like

    • Lulu makes me think of Carmela, who I still miss, who also liked to swipe food when no one was looking. We had an incident in the Park with a tuna salad sandwich that could have gone down badly since she took it from a kid, but the family just fell in love and offered her a cookie for later. Carm had real charm as I’m certain did Lulu.

      Like

      • Vasca Beall says:

        I forgot to mention the last pie Lulu swiped was a Key Lime…ate the entire pie! Her fav!!!

        Like

  9. I’ll bet he really enjoyed that pie. Sounds amazing. I’m sure it made his parents’ day as well

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Law of Attraction – all things are perfect. we just so seldom get to see how it fits together.
    Thanks for sharing.
    Scott

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Pingback: Humble Pie | Kindredspirit23's Blog

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.