Thankful... for Raspberries

If there is one food filled with memories for me, it would have to be raspberries.  I cannot eat a single one without thinking of my grandma.  She made the best raspberry-pineapple jam in the world.  I really meant to learn how to make it before she died, but I didn't do it.  One of my many regrets.  There's nothing in this world quite like her raspberry-pineapple jam combined with my mom's thanksgiving biscuits...

My grandparents lived on an old farm in Ohio practically their entire married life, which spanned 50+ years.  Growing up, it was one of my favorite places to go.  I was fascinated by being in an old farmhouse and thinking about all the kids who'd run in one door and out the other.  I fell in love with the wild farm cats and their incessant litters of kittens.  I could romp through the woods for hours imagining I was Huck Finn.  Most importantly, I could go pick raspberries off the bush and eat insane amounts of them.  I would spend hours picking raspberries if I could.  It's amazing my lips aren't permanently stained.

You know how some places just seemed truly magical when you were a kid?  That's how Grandma and Grandpa's farm was for me.  I still love raspberries in any way, shape, or form.  I still eat them and remember all of those wonderful days of summer berry picking.

I am so thankful that I was blessed with so many good memories.  I am so thankful for the relationship I had with my Grandma for the first 26 years of my life.  Despite the distance, she made sure she had a strong relationship with us.  I always loved knowing she loved us and wanted to spend time with us.  As I've grown older and can reflect on the people who've impacted my life, one thing stands out to me about my Grandma.  She had an incredible amount of grace.  She really did her best to make people feel loved and welcome no matter what was going on in their life or hers.  I pray that God will mold me in to someone that gracious as well.