~This post is in honor my dear friend, D and her mother~
The idea for this post came from a craving for cinnamon rolls late last week. My experience with making this yummy treat comes from a can. So, I tapped into the vast resource, Facebook, and put out an all call for a recipe. My dear friend D, sent me numerous links (that her mother sent her) that were comparable to the cinnamon rolls that we can all remember from my days in grade school. I can vividly recall chili and cinnamon roll day. We all used to get in trouble for trading our cinnamon rolls (bigger and more icing is better)!
You are probably wondering what makes this recipe so special. D informed me that her mother used to work in a school cafeteria while she was growing up. I'm sure many of us never really thought about the woman behind the line dishing out food to calm our rumbling tummies. However, after D told me this, I began to give my relationship with the cafeteria woman a second thought.
It all started out at Southpark Christian School. My mother worked the second shift and a local oil pump manufacturing company and learned English during the day. My dad worked the first shift and was home with my sister and I at night. While other children were bonding with their parents during lunchtime at school, my mom was rushing through the line at Churches chicken to get me one drumstick and a biscuit before she dropped me off at home. When I did get to eat lunch at school, I was so impressed with all the "American" foods, such as chicken fried steak, which has become a staple in my food repetoire. I will always remember talking with the lunch lady while I ate my lunch. She was always so kind and always gave me a little extra scoop of mashed potatoes. As the years went by, I truly savored some of the dishes that were served in the school cafeteria (except for middle and high school, where eating out of the cafeteria was considered dorky). In college, chicken and noodles was my favorite.
My mom wouldn't allow my sister and I to bring our lunch, like many of our peers did. To me, bringing your lunch put you into a different class, one far away from the kids who had to use their lunch card. Jealousy continued to strike as I watched many of my friends get the coveted McDonald's Happy Meal. I wanted what they had. I wanted my mom and dad to work "normal hours," let me bring my lunch and also have time to come bring me a Happy Meal. I continued to eat from the lunch line. I can remember how friendly the women were. I always wondered why someone, who looked so friendly, would choose a profession that warranted a hair net and a scoop for canned corn.
As an adult, I can now understand why my parents were unable to bring me lunch. I wanted
that homecooked meal,
that Happy Meal. They did the best they could and provided my sister and I with the best of everything. But it was never enough as a kid. I always wanted what others had. I wanted my parents to be like
their parents. I didn't want to eat from the lunch line, in which I was convinced that everything behind there came from a can or freezer. I can also understand why someone would want to be the cafeteria woman...for the same reasons my parents worked long hours in their job.
Providers. That's what parents are. It doesn't matter if they are the cafeteria lady, the machine shop worker, or the local doctor. They provide the best for their children. And, in this case, D's mom provided us with that homemade meal that many of us craved. She didn't just provide for D and her siblings, she provided for all of the children that just wanted a homecooked meal and a little smile to let us know it was all going to be ok. Little did we know, that all that food we thought was canned or frozen, was made from scratch and with a lot of love.
So, you see, these cinnamon rolls mean a whole lot more than a yummy treat. Here's to all the moms (and dads) who do everything they can, whether glamorous or not, to give everything they can to their children and families.
