peanut butter & jelly

I heard this story as a camper at Camp Longhorn, at least eight years ago. We have a sacred place there, called Church Mountain, and a counselor told this story a while back. I told it years later as a counselor and though it may be easier to tell in person, I'm going to type it here today.

There was a middle-aged couple adjusting to life as empty nesters after all of their children had gone off to college or married and moved out of the house. They found themselves not being able to sleep through the night anymore, and they would wake in the middle of the night and meet each other in the kitchen.

The married pair would make peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and talk about their days, their kids, random things until they were tired. Then they would turn out the kitchen lights and return to bed. This went on for some time, and eventually the husband began to get irritated - everytime they would come to the end of a loaf of bread, the wife would take the heels of the loaf and make one sandwich with these two pieces. She would always give the "heel" sandwich to the husband, and though he never said anything, but it really bothered him. He let this continue to happen for months before he said something to his wife.

"I don't like to bring this up," he said to his wife, "but I hate that you always give me the sandwich that is made of the two heels. I don't know why you give me the bad pieces. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, but you do it everytime." He grew more frustrated as he told her she bothered him. "Why give me the bad pieces?" he asked. "Why can't we just discard them in the trash?"

He started to leave the kitchen in anger, but the wife put her hand on her husband's arm.
"I'm sorry," she said simply, honestly. "The sandwiches made from the ends of the breadloaf are my very favorite."

The woman sacrificed what she cherished so that the husband could enjoy the sandwich. She thought that he enjoyed the end of the breadloaf as much as she did, and not once did she keep it for herself. This was her way of loving her husband, of giving up her favorite thing - albeit a very small thing, just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich - to show her love for her spouse.

At camp we share this story as a reminder of the simple, easy ways we can love others. I thought of this story when I was trying to put into words the way my mom has always loved my dad, my brother, and myself.

Oh, she's not perfect, but my mom would always, always give up her favorite things if she thought it would make one of the three of us happy. She would cut off her right arm if it would make the sun would shine brighter in our worlds. My mom takes hours out of her days to do things we don't even notice, things we take for granted daily.

I don't love peanut butter & jelly sandwiches made from the last pieces of a breadloaf, but I do love my mom. I'm so glad we were blessed with such a loving, wonderful (and goofy, loud, windex-obsessed) mom.

Happy Mothers Day, Mamacita!