I must have been five or six years old at the time this happened.
CABBAGE FOR DINNER
I walked into the kitchen and smelled the most hated food on the planet. Cabbage. The smell made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t eat it; I couldn’t eat dinner at all. My sister thought I was faking and told Mom—and anyone else who would listen—that I should be made to eat cabbage. She said that just the smell of something couldn’t make me sick.
Mom listened politely but she had different ideas. She set a card table and chair for me on the back porch by the big chest freezer. She filled my plate with all the food everyone else was eating except for the cabbage and then she brought the plate of food out to me. I sat with my arms folded while I heard someone say the blessing in the kitchen.
"Amen," I said and as soon as everyone else said "amen" my sister started again. “You are spoiling her," she said.
Was I spoiled like food left too long in the fridge? I looked at my arms and hands and fingers. I wasn’t moldy. I shrugged and ate my dinner. Listening to the hum of the freezer was pleasant and I liked eating alone on the porch.
Mom listened politely but she had different ideas. She set a card table and chair for me on the back porch by the big chest freezer. She filled my plate with all the food everyone else was eating except for the cabbage and then she brought the plate of food out to me. I sat with my arms folded while I heard someone say the blessing in the kitchen.
"Amen," I said and as soon as everyone else said "amen" my sister started again. “You are spoiling her," she said.
Was I spoiled like food left too long in the fridge? I looked at my arms and hands and fingers. I wasn’t moldy. I shrugged and ate my dinner. Listening to the hum of the freezer was pleasant and I liked eating alone on the porch.
Every time Mom fixed cabbage she listened to my sister tell her she was spoiling me and every time she ignored my sister and let me eat on the back porch, where I knew I would have the freezer humming for company. I decided being spoiled meant that my mom believed me, loved me, and made things special for me. I was lucky to be spoiled.
PS I love cooked cabbage now and I love my sister, too, much, much more than cabbage.
