Vegetables Can Be Sentimental

                                     

The green beans were the clincher. As I stood in the church  kitchen pouring cans of the vegetables into aluminum trays, their subtle smell, dull green color and mushy texture transported me back to another time. I thought about the many occasions, while staying at the Ronald McDonald House last summer, that they had been prepared for me. During the 8 weeks I stayed there, every day a group would come in and lend their time and energy to cook a warm meal just for us. After a long hard day at the hospital, all we had to do was grab a plate and enjoy the fruits of their labors. I always felt so grateful to them and wondered how I could ever repay them and their smiling faces. When would I be able to help someone?

Flash forward to today and I'm at the Lutheran House of Prayer, helping my Youth Group to serve a "Manna" dinner to the needy people of West Aliquippa. No longer on the receiving end of the deal, I am finally prepping instead of eating, spooning veggies and plating brownie squares. A woman comes into the room to take our picture to hang on the wall with the photos of other volunteers who have in the past come to help. "Thank you all for coming." she says. I realize at this moment that here I am, doing my part to help. Now I know what it feels like to be the one serving instead of the one being served. Boy, what a good feeling it is. But part of the reason it feels so good is because I have felt both ways. I know how special one simple meal can be, and how it can mean so much to one who needs it. And I also know how doing your part to do something for someone else can be so fulfilling, gratifying, even liberating.

Although I had to leave early due to soccer practice, this experience at the Manna dinner was a very positive one for me, and I hope that my Youth Group will do more of these types of service projects in the future. I will leave with a quote from the acclaimed blockbuster film, "Les Miserables", which I think applies perfectly to this situation: "Remember the truth that once was spoken: To love another person is to see the face of God".

I agree: it seems like the best in us is brought out when we are all serving and looking out for one another. We get changed for the better, as I can attest: I'll never see people --nor green beans-- in the same way again.

Introducing: Iceburgh the Penguin

"Oh, what do we have here?" The woman reached back into a pile of oranges and pulled out a fluffy stuffed penguin. "Awww, how cute! What am I supposed to do with him?"

I turned to my mom and chuckled. Only at "Trader Joe's" is a shopper granted the satisfaction of finding a furry friend hidden among the produce.

"Ahh, you've found Iceburgh!" an enthusiastic employee popped up from the other side of the fruit display.

"Okay, so now what?"

"Well, it's a thing for the kids. They find the penguin and get a prize. Do you have a little one?"

"No, not with me" the lady laughed, "I have a little granddaughter, though. Does that count?"

"Sorry!" the employee threw up her hands. "I'm afraid not"

"I'm a little one!" I spoke up, half joking.

But she just smiled and went back to stacking her pears.

"You could find the penguin, Missy." My mom nudged me "Go take it up to the counter and see what they say."

It was worth a try. I took "Iceburgh" and, presenting him to a man near the front of the store, exclaimed in my youngest voice, "Excuse me sir, I but found this penguin over there."

"Good for you!" he said "Come on over here and pick out a little something."

I followed him eagerly to the basket. What would the prize be? An awesome Trader Joe hat? A colorful pin? A reusable shopping bag? A roll of those cool stickers they give away at the checkout? The suspense was killing me!

I peered into the basket AND....... my heart sank.

Candy. And fruit strips.

Wow.

No wonder this game was for "little ones".

"Oh, thank you!" I beamed at him.

"You're welcome! And you know the coolest part? Now you get to hide him wherever you want!"

 That did sound pretty neat.

And so, Iceburgh and I proceeded throughout the store searching for his next hiding place. We parted ways at the grits, which I chose because of their excellent black and white camoflauge, and bid each other farewell.

Another of my Trader Joe adventures had come to a close, but, as far as I know,  for good old Iceburgh the penguin, his were just beginning.

Have You Ever Seen This Side of Andy Warhol?

Scenes from the "Warhol: Headlines" exhibit now on display at the National Gallery, Washington, D.C. (Article coming soon to The Missy Times)

Visitors touring the exhibit at the National Gallery, Washington, D.C



Isn't the detail and texture amazing?



Warhol drew the pages on silkscreen with pen and ink

Many of his sketches bear striking resemblance to early issues of the Missy Times

Road Trip!

The Koshute Clan is setting off on its next adventure. Tomorrow morning we will depart for my cousin's wedding which takes place on Saturday in Lincoln, Nebraska. Along the way we will travel through the states of Indiana, Illinois and Missouri, all of which are totally new territories for me. Our pit-stops in Chicago, Champaign, Springfield, Hannibal, and St. Louis should prove to be memorable, and hopefully the fun of seeing America will make up for the long hours we will have to endure in the car. Whatever the outcome, this summer road trip will surely be an exciting journey!

The Missy Times and More invites you along for the ride. Check back for special updates from Missy as the Koshute Caravan treks west to the Great Plains. Stay Tuned!

In Rogers Neighborhood

-Friday, June 17th

Seeking adventure on a mellow summer day with no other particular plans, my Mom and I, along with my neighbor friends Grace, Harper and her little brother Zane piled into the van for a trip across the state line into Ohio. There, accompanied only by a few dollars, some snacks, and our spirit of curiosity, we were to tour the regionally famed Rogers flea market.

Having only been there once before when I was little, my excitement was peaked. I'd always heard people talk of their Friday ventures to Rogers, but now I would finally have a fresh picture in my mind to match with the name.


The parking lot was packed with cars, most from Pennsylvania, although some liscense plates were from as far away as New York and North Carolina. We entered the gate, and our experience began. And boy, an experience it was. The atmosphere was a cross somewhere between a giant yard sale, a fair, a farmers market and the History Channel show "American Pickers".

People trudged up and down the gravel paths that wove around the scores of vendors. There were Amish Country Donuts that smelled as only donuts do; there were fuzzy siamese kittens and velvety puppies; there were smooth wooden rubberband guns that we got to practice shooting at pop cans. Bold entrepreneurs shouted out sales pitches about no fog window cleaners, rug whiteners and squishy little animals that flattened like scrambled eggs when slapped on the ground. Old "Colman's Mustard" and "Cook's Breakfast Cocoa" tins were laid out on tables next to knives and outdated action figures. Vintage metal posters with scenes of Norman Rockwell's "Saturday Evening Post" sat in a box underneath one table near a stand with a huge ferocious looking bear head.

Under the roofed pavillions, the merchaindise varied from T-shirts and hermit crabs to produce and Club crackers. Inside the barn shaped buildings, there were Cucumber Melon and McIntosh Apple flavored candles from "Your Own Candle Company" and a whole hardware store's worth of tools.

Although we didn't purchase anything save a few postcards and some fries, the fun of exploring this eccentric place made it well worth the trip . Just like so many of the items at Rogers, our mediocre day had been turned from trash, to treasure....a summer memory we soon won't forget.