Lentil Soup and Ordinary Moments

A splash of vinegar. The past two weeks have been full and happy, and the house is only now quiet again. Our youngest, Eran, came over from Wales with his family to celebrate his eldest boy’s fourth birthday and to introduce us to their newest little one, though she is already sixteen months old. You can imagine how full our hearts were, having both my Schätz and my Schätzchen running around these rooms. There are so many little moments I keep going back to now that they have flown home. One of them was simply sitting with my little Schätz and reading him a German book a friend had lent us. He was on my lap, tucked right in, just as Eran used to be when he was that age. I have no idea what he will remember of this visit years from now. I can’t decide that for him. All I can do is be there while it is happening and make room for those little moments when they come. And sometimes a memory comes from something as ordinary as lunch. Before heading out to one of the many playgrounds we wore out over those two weeks, we had lentil soup for lunch. To me and my hubby, it’s just soup, and we enjoy it. But it is also the soup all three of our boys grew up on. To hubby and me, it’s just soup, and we enjoy it. But it is also the soup all three of our boys grew up on. Eran did not make a fuss over it. He simply finished his bowl having added an extra splash of vinegar, the way he always did all those years ago. But there was a little smile on his face from the memory of it. The vinegar is the key. A small spoonful stirred in at the end takes the lentil soup from a bit flat to just right. And there beside him sat his own boy, looking so much like Eran from thirty-five years ago, pushing the lentil soup away in favor of a ham sandwich. Not just any sandwich either. A "substantial ham sandwich," as he insisted on calling it. I had to chuckle. One generation reaching for the vinegar out of habit, the next one turning up his nose at the very same bowl. It made me wonder what my little Schätz will smile about in thirty-five years. It could be the German book. It could be the ham sandwich. It will definitely not be the lentil soup, and that’s all right. Most likely, it will be something small that I never even noticed mattered at the time. We don’t get to choose what our children and grandchildren remember. We only get to keep showing up, feeding them, reading to them, laughing with them, and filling the days with enough love that something will stay. If you would like to make the soup that raised our three boys, the recipe is right here. It’s simply and filling. It might just be the thing someone remembers one day without knowing why. Tschüss!Oma Gerhild P.S. Today's recipe: Lentil Soup Tell me, what is the small, ordinary thing from your childhood kitchen that still makes you smile when it catches you off guard?

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Lentil Soup and Ordinary Moments

A splash of vinegar.

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