Laundry, Love, and Lent

IN MY EARLY DAYS as a Catholic I was not tuned in to intercessory prayer. Growing up in a Baptist household I knew virtually nothing about that form of prayer beyond the prayer chain scotch taped to my grandmother’s and mother’s refrigerator door. Mostly I was taught to take it, as the song says, to the Lord in prayer…myself. As a young girl we kept quiet about our needs and issues and problems and if we talked at all it was usually to Jesus in hurried, hopeful prayers just before sleep overtook us.

The prayer chain seemed so much out of my own realm and that of my friends; it seemed reserved for adults who had years of spiritual training under their belts. When the phone rang (in those days not frequently) it was usually a short exchange unless the prayer chain had been activated. Mrs. Jane Cutrer would call my grandmother who would call Mrs. Jessie Bruner, who would call someone else and prayers were made quietly and privately. It was such a singular yet communal act. One day, I mused, I would wear a hat and gloves to church and one day my name and telephone number would be taped to the door of refrigerators.

Alas that was not the path God had chosen for me. Coming into the Catholic family fold I realized that intercessory prayer extended to the next world in the communion of saints. I still was slow to embrace all that it offers, widening my circle only to the Blessed Mother for several years. Now I am much more tuned in and more comfortable with both the idea and the practice.

As I was hanging some blankets on the clothesline my eyes caught for the first time in a while names of a friendship quilt that my great grandmother and her church friends made decades ago in a small Baptist church in rural Texas. Each square was pieced together and in the center the name of the woman who pieced that square was embroidered, just their name nothing else. I gazed at my great grandmother’s name as she had stitched it Mrs. I. A. Cowan. Truthfully I had not given much thought to the other women’s names. I also saw that some squares were frayed, this treasure needed some TLC, it needed mending. I thought if they had taken the time to create this I could take an hour and mend it.

I know if these ladies were friends of Mamaw Cowan then they are certainly gone from this world but what about their own families; their great granddaughters and beyond? Do they not need a prayer or two?

In that overcast breezy afternoon a decision was made; during the Lenten season I would pray for each of these ladies and their families.

My mother copied some old family recipes for me decades ago; two were from Mamaw Cowan. My mom took the time to write them by hand and in this pie recipe she wrote “ Mamaw always said this was a man’s pie.” I have no basis for this statement nor did I question it, simply taking it as wisdom from the ages.

In my mind’s eye I see the pie steaming and on the table, I see a cup of coffee and a piece of that pie waiting for me along with a list of names. So I will eat, drink, and pray knowing that the prayer chain of my childhood is not so much written on paper and taped to the fridge rather it is written in my heart.

May this holy Lenten season be filled with love and prayers for those near and far, those intimate and unknown, and those whom we have yet to learn how to hold close.

I never thought of the laundry serving as a GPS but it can. Here is to Mrs. Murphy, Mrs. Tubbs, Mrs. Hewett, Mrs. Hervey, Mrs. Simms, Mrs. Butler, Mrs. Goff, Mrs. Standifer, Mrs. Nelson, Mrs. Dechaume, Mrs. McBride, Mrs. Kessinger, Mrs. Rehoders, Mrs. Meador, Mrs. Meador, and my great grandmother Rhoda Black Cowan, may you be forever cradled in the arms of our loving savior, may you know that you and your kin are prayed for, and may you know you are not forgotten.

RHODA COWAN’S CHESS PIE

1 unbaked pie case (shell)

5 whole large eggs

1 ½ cup of sugar

Preheat oven to 375

Cream butter and sugar.

Beat eggs until frothy, add milk and lemon extract.

Add to sugar and butter and beat until mixed well.

1 stick of butter, very soft

1 cup whole milk

1 teaspoon lemon extract

Pour into pie case (shell) and bake until middle is set and tester comes out clean.

Serve slightly warm with whipped cream.