I once borrowed a novel from a friend, possibly many years back now, that planted the seed of an idea in my brain. I don’t think it was a particularly good book, but the beginning held something enticing that lured me in. It started off with a woman in her cozy, home kitchen, baking pies. The author went about describing them in delicious detail, the perfection of the crust and warm filling, the care at which the woman wrapped and placed them into boxes. I was in love with the idea of this kitchen filled with fragrant, sugary delights, and quickly imagined myself in her shoes. It only got better as it was revealed that this woman’s only purpose in life was to deliver these pies across town to those who were in need. From there the story became something a bit more tragic and unhappy, but the pie part, the sweet part, stuck. 

So where do I find myself years down the road? Packing boxes with warm, freshly-baked pies, and carting them around town to local charities. It feels again like one of those plans that my brain made without me. Little steps over many years that have allowed me to live out a dream. To deliver pies and see those expressions that I had only imagined in the past. And they didn’t let me down, not one bit. In fact, I was almost overwhelmed by the sincere surprise and thanks that I received. Each time I turned to walk away I had a grin that couldn’t be contained on my face. With the first donation made, I was already dreaming up what I could make next before even returning to my car. With the next, my heart swelled as a Volunteer at our local Samaritan House reacted with shock and delight at being told that the pie was for them to enjoy as a thank you for being a part of our mission. As my vehicle emptied, my heart grew fuller. (I know, I’m getting a bit sappy, but there are few things in my life that have warmed my heart so much.)

I didn’t plan to make pies for any selfish reasons, for the rewards or accolades they might bring me. The reactions and gratitude I received were my surprises, my gifts. It was worth burned fingers and a messy kitchen. It was worth bug bites and tired arms and hours spent sweating in the sun. I may still have thought to make pies had I not read the book, but I recognize that little seed it planted, now all grown-up. The reality of it was much more rewarding than what I could have imagined or hoped for. I feel very fortunate to be in a position where I can make others happy and have the same in return. I must admit that this feeling, the one I get each time I share with my community, has got me hooked. I encourage anyone with the heart and time to help to please join our mission by visiting www.fruitshare.ca to sign up and help make our city just that much sweeter. 

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