Thursday, February 1, 2018

Forgiveness Salad

My great-great-grandmother was 109 when she taught me how to make hummus. She would churn the machine by hand to grind the chickpeas. No one did work like that anymore, but she said it helped her to remember how hard it was not to forgive. To hold up your enemy in your heart and offer them to God was a gift for you. 

She would pray a blessing, peace, and names, over and over. I forgive you. Some of the names she made up because she did not know who had dropped the bombs on her village or who had killed everyone she loved. Though she would remind me, it is far more difficult to forgive someone whose name you know. In turn, the sky would open and forgiveness would fall from it into her eager hands. She needed every bit of it just to live, just to take one more breath. 

We celebrated the Forgiveness Festival each year, making the meal that would remind us why we do this, how our chains were broken, and for my great-great-grandmother, where our peace comes from.

Born in 1969, she had lived an entire liftetime before I came along, but as she liked to say, just kept on living after that. She could remember her days, each of them, clearly because she had the mind of Christ, not the feeble mind people expect when your eyes are old and your hair is gray. 

She could recall a smile at a friend's joke 40 years before and what she felt like the first time humans landed on Mars. She remembered the speech a great man gave in a dark place. She had memorized each word, but discarded the memory of the darkness. She remembered his funeral with tears and forgave his killers, who she had always believed to be her own people. 

She had forgiven wars and horrors and selfishness, foolishness, and deception. She had forgiven me, I believe, and herself, if you can. 

Her health was startling. Who walks that far without a cane at her age? She didn't have time to stand still, she would tell us. But she seemed to me to have all the time in the world. As long as the sun rose, so did she, and I imagined she'd live forever.

We chose our ingredients for the meal carefully. Each would symbolize our forgiveness in one way or another, some long completed, and others yet to come. Her entries were simple, usually items we could not find anymore. Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream helped her forgive a friend, though she had long since forgotten what for. The company no longer existed, so we made the ice cream at home by hand with an old machine that required effort like everything else.

Each Spring, before the festival, we would travel far to the east to a town called Ufa for Bashkortostan honey. The best in the world, she would say. I would heartily agree, though it was the only honey left in the entire world. Her reason for including it in the festival was strange to me. She'd been afraid as a child, often and of most things. The dark. Monsters. People. Deep water. The Soviets.

"Did you forgive them?" I would ask.

"Kind of," she would always say, then add, "They never attacked us, so there wasn't really anything to forgive."

And then I would prompt, "Did they ever forgive us?"

"No," was her answer every time. 

I am still not sure what she meant, but it never sat comfortably with me. I felt there was more to the story. But we can't forgive for others, only ourselves, and sometimes we do not understand another's burdens.

We would come to the salad last. In the bottom of a glass jar would go the dressing, a glop of oil and other fats and something called Ranch seasoning. It tasted tangy and sweet, but was disgusting to me. It was bloblike and messy. It had long gone out of fashion, only the elderly ate it now, covering perfectly good food with it. And, so, we did too. Above that, the jar would be filled with vegetables, then seeds, walnuts, and at the top spinach or lettuce or nothing at all. She shook the jar before serving and poured the whole thing into a bowl. I asked her once who she forgave with the salad. She told me simply that she just liked salad and it was time to celebrate because our chains were broken and we were free. 

33 comments:

  1. Hello, this is the first I have heard of the Forgiveness Festival. Wonderful story and memories of your Great-great Grandmother. She lived a long healthy life, that is awesome. Happy Thursday, enjoy your day!

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    1. Thanks, Eileen! :) It's a work of fiction, but I hope the festival catches on.

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  2. Love the whole story of forgiveness, and especially getting to the salad at the end where the `chains were broken and we were free!`

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    1. Passover inspired that part. Once we were slaves, but now we are free. I like the idea of remembering like this, with each food serving as a reminder, like the bitter herbs, etc.

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  3. What an amazing story. She sounds like a wonderful, smart woman and God blessed her with long life because she had a pure heart. xo Diana

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  4. I loved every word of this post. What an amazing woman. And what an impact she made on your life. And so very right -- forgiveness is, I think, essential to living a life of grace.

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    1. Thanks, Jeanie. It's fictional, but I suppose she did make an impact anyway! :)

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  5. What a lovely story. I'll take up Grandma's practice next time I'm mashing or mixing or perhaps kneading dough.

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  6. Free people conquer the Universe ;)

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  7. That's a very fine tribute to your great-great-grandmother!
    (I envy you as I've never got to know any of my Grannies).
    No doubt, your g.g. grandmother was blessed by God with a great forgiving nature for humans and for the universe - and that probably gave her the peace of mind necessary for living a long life.

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    1. Thanks, but it is a work of fiction. I like the idea of a forgiveness festival.

      :)

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  8. I love your story. I had to read your replies to comments to be sure that this was a fictional work and not real...but the story itself is wonderful and is something we SHOULD do...celebrate Forgiveness...practice it and remind ourselves that as we forgive, we are also forgiven...by God. I love your gift of story telling!! Always wonderful to read.
    I wish we could have met your "great great grandmother". She would have been someone well worthy of note!!!

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  9. "But we can't forgive for others, only ourselves, and sometimes we do not understand another's burdens." Very powerful advice to live by.

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  10. You are amazing, my friend! What a wonderful work of fiction you have created...and I shall think of it every time I prepare my salads in a jar. xx

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  11. What a lovely post! Thank you for sharing it, Sandi!

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  12. What a wonderful story!! I enjoyed this so much!

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  13. Sandi, that was so nice to read. I can't even imagine a woman living through 109 years....the world has evolved but likely not in her day and age...wonderful WONDERFUL tribute. I LOVE that she just liked the salad! :)

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  14. Love the why your great-great grandmother taught you to forgive, she was a very wise woman.
    Nice story!

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  15. Wow. Great job! You had me going at first. It took me a little bit of reading to realize it was a work of fiction. Even so, it delivers some terrific truths.

    Count me in as your newest groupie. :)

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    1. Haha! Thanks. Hey, I wonder if there is a way to change my Followers title to Groupies, because that would be hilarious!

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  16. Amazing. (And beautifully conveyed.) ♥

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  17. Sandi!
    Amazing and very beautiful story.
    Your Grandmother was incredible, a very wise woman, and God gave her a long life.
    Please God for the wise politicians in my country.
    I am ashamed for those politicians.
    I kiss and greet:)
    Lucja

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    1. What do you mean? I don't know enough about Poland and the politics there.

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  18. Thanks for visiting my blog recently! I have to smile at the part about Ranch dressing - that has been my youngest son's favorite condiment since he was very little. He puts it on almost everything, even scrambled eggs. Interesting story about forgiveness - I'm glad we can just do it from the heart. :-)

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  19. so much of our own happiness depends on the ability to forgive, doesn't it? thank you for writing about forgiveness and about your lovely grandmother

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  20. she seemed a lady from fairy lands dear Sandi!!!

    what courage and strength she had in her old but strong heart

    at the age of 109 she walked without can it was because she had no burden to tore or bend her down she had LIGHT BEAUTIFUL HEART filled with grace and generosity!!!

    my grandma lived until she was 80 and she walked without bowing down and without can
    those were pure people relatively in pure times

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  21. Yes we do have to forgive and it can be so hard, forgive and then forget and it is even harder. by the way was she born in 1869? Is that a typo? God bless xxx

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    1. Ha ha...not a typo! I was trying to set this in the far future. The narrator is looking back on someone born in 1969 who is "now" 109. We've landed on Mars, etc.... :) I guess we have actually landed on Mars already, a rover anyway.

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