I made an egg custard pie for Christmas. There is only one slice left. I am the only one in my immediate household that eats egg custard pie. My sister, Gwen, loved egg custard pie. She passed away the Sunday before Thanksgiving at the age of 85. We had her funeral week before last and I had the privilege to deliver her eulogy.

This past Saturday our family held its annual Christmas party in memory of those who have passed on. I put together a video from 1992 and 1994 when we took my mother and father to Disney World. Gwen and Sue (my other sister) were with us. Gwen’s kids, grandkids, great grandkids, and I’m pretty sure great great grandchild watched in delight as their “Nana” enjoyed Disney World with our mother and daddy.

That is why I made an egg custard pie. Gwen loved it. But no one loved it better than my mother. Let’s take the way back machine to the 1960’s. The default number one best shopping center in Shreveport was Shreve City.

J. C. Penney, Dillards, Woolco Department Story, McCary’s Jewelers, Stan’s Record Shop, and my favorite, Big Chain Cafeteria. We lived in Blanchard and it was about a 30-40 minute drive to Shreve City. But Mother loved to shop there at J.C. Penney. And occasionally grab a quick bite at Walgreen’s Diner. But her favorite food was found at Big Chain Cafeteria.

We ate there at least once a week, usually on Saturday while shopping but sometimes on Sunday when my Daddy was the music director at Mildred Crowe Memorial Baptist Church on North Market (since we were closer to Shreve City than at home!)

Every time we went to Big Chain I dreamed of getting a piece of egg custard pie! As we passed down the line starting with salad (rabbit food!) I kept a wary eye on my mother’s tray. She picked up gelatin salad, a fresh baked roll, her meat and vegetables and I would pray she would get a piece of pie. But, being a large woman who watched her calorie intake, she would pass up the pie. I would grab the largest piece available. Let me explain. It was not because I wanted a lot of pie. No, I just wanted an entire piece of pie!

You see, when my mother finished any meal (except for maybe breakfast) she routinely would look about at all available options and pronounce, “I just need a little bite of something sweet.” You know what that meant? Yes, her hungry eyes would come to rest on MY piece of pie. No matter how hard I tried to arrange the plates and glasses on my tray, I could never hide the pie from Mother.

“Honey, I just want a little bite of something sweet.” And before I could protest, her fork would soar through the air and — whack! One third of the pie was gone. Not the edge with pie crust but the best part, the pointy end! She would pop the “small bite of something sweet” equal to a third of my pie in her mouth and that was the end of it. For I would wolf down the rest before she needed another bite of something sweet. And I didn’t even get to enjoy it! Time and time again I would ask her if she wanted an entire piece of pie and I would encourage her to get her own piece. It never happened. If you were to visit her grave sight, you would see an inscription on the tomb stone stating that when she saw her Saviour “all she would want was a little bite of something sweet.”

My mother and father were married in the midst of the Great Depression in 1935. My father tried to make a go of it as a farmer in the most difficult time of our nation’s history for farming. They starved for years until moving to Shreveport in 1941 and leaving the dust bowl of Saline, Louisiana behind. I guess that is why my mother loved food so much!

A few years back, I decided to tackle some of the encouraging stories of my mother and father particularly at Christmas time. Mother loved to cook and bake but especially at Christmas. I became her helper as we made divinity, pralines, date loaf, date balls, party mix, “Martha Washington” balls (coconut nugget dipped in chocolate), and prune cake (don’t knock ti until you’ve tried it). Lots of little “bites of something sweet.” I compiled years of blog posts and devotionals I wrote about this special time of the year in a book for my family. “Just a Bite of Something Sweet at Christmas” was my gift to a growing family of children, grand children, great grandchildren, great great grandchildren and even great great great grandchildren. I never thought the book would be read by anyone outside my family. But I have had many comments on the stories in the book by other readers.

I picked up my copy this week and started reading and realized what powerful stories of encouragement and courage came from my parents as part of the “Greatest Generation”. They were both born before 1920 and saw the coming of automobiles, radio, talkies, two World Wars, the Korean War, television, the Vietnam War, the space program, the turmoil of the sixties and seventies, computers and the Internet, and so forth. No other generation has ever experienced such tumultuous change!

Right before I decided to write this book, I discovered my father had been interviewed by a high school student a few years before his death at age 98 in 2012. The transcript and recording were in his own words. When my mother passed away in 2004 at age 86 we discovered she had written her life story in a spiral bound notebook. I included their stories in their own words at the end of the book.

And so, this season, check out “Just a Bite of Something Sweet at Christmas” and be encouraged by the stories of my parents and my families. You will read stories of faith in the child born in the manger who would live and die and rise again for our salvation. And my hope is that you will find Jesus as your savior and one day walk the golden streets of heaven and find and eternal “bite of something sweet.”

Merry Christmas