The Banana Nut Bread Christmas

The Christmas season more than three decades ago, “…was the best of times, [and] it was the worst of times…” as Charles Dickens once wrote. The best of times, because we were healthy, the worst, because as a single mom I found myself part of the U.S. poverty statistic.

This memory came flooding back recently while shopping at the supermarket. I began to wonder how people with limited financial resources like I once had, could possibly feed their families with the escalating prices at the grocery. Besides, the daily struggle, Christmas is coming for this economically endangered population. 

Even when your financial situation is rocky, Christmas comes with the human expectation should celebrate by giving to others. That’s when my mind recalled my own plight as a young single mother on welfare living in a government-subsidized apartment, despite a newly acquired college degree. I was ashamed of betraying my hard-fought dream of becoming a middle-class citizen through higher education. After months of sending out resume after resume during the recession and record unemployment of the early eighties, there was still no career prospect on the horizon.

Wanting to give presents to my loved ones is how the banana nut bread Christmas came to be. Not blessed with much domestic talent, I surprised myself that winter by mastering a recipe for banana nut bread. I got a couple boxes of Bisquick, nuts, some reduced over-ripe bananas perfect for baking, and a dented box of foil from a food salvage store.

Loaf after loaf of golden-brown bread baked in my little apartment oven in borrowed loaf pans. Then once the delicious smelling bread cooled, I wrapped it in seasonally appropriate, silver (aluminum) foil and tied a festive red bow around it. Admittedly, the nuts in the nut bread were quite sparse, due to my budget.

Through the years, I have been blessed with financial stability, and it’s easy to forget the frantic tension not having enough money for monthly bills, rent, food, or even diapers can produce within a family unit. And everything seems worse at Christmas. This all came rushing back wondering how on Earth people would “make ends meet.” as my grandmother used to say. 

This is not a political column being written to point a finger of blame at anyone for the rising inflation and prices. Besides, that would be a useless technique in helping folks who are struggling with food insecurity.  Thankfully, my own circumstances have improved dramatically for the better over the years, but millions of Americans are not so fortunate.

For instance, an employed friend recently confided their present need to visit the local food pantry to supplement the family’s monthly groceries. This saddened me, because I had no idea this friend was experiencing such need. Hearing this story reminded how tricky poverty can be. I remember only too well the destitution and shame it produces, which silences you. Once your voice is gone, you can give in to apathy and hopelessness.

The 2021 U.S. Census Bureau reported the poverty rate at 12.8 percent, also citing child poverty even higher at almost 17 percent. These sterile numbers do not adequately represent the plight of the innocent children or endangered seniors who face each day without nutritional food since healthy food costs more or those who might go to bed hungry.    

Senior citizens can be at special risk. Last month, a senior friend expressed their embarrassment at going to a food pantry once, admitting their pride prevented them from returning. These true stories were refresher courses for me about what scarcity feels like.

Thankfully, many communities take note of the needs of those less fortunate during this season of giving believing the Biblical viewpoint that, “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” especially where children are concerned.

It’s wonderful for all the organizations who make sure a child to has some gifts to open. But this Christmas, let’s also remember the food pantries that minister to our friends and neighbors or maybe we can make a gift of grocery gift card to someone we suspect is in need. 

As for me, I will never forget the banana nut bread Christmas. Since, “It [really] is more blessed to give than to receive,” giving the homemade bread as presents to family and friends gave me special joy. I had beaten the recession Grinch who had tried to steal Christmas.

When one is able to give something – anything – hope arises in the midst of lack. Hope for a brighter future and better life!

Christina Ryan Claypool is an award-winning freelance journalist/speaker and five-time Chicken Soup for the Soul book contributor. Her inspirational book, “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel” is available on all major online outlets. Contact her through her Website at www.christinaryanclaypool.com

A Glitter Girl’s Guarantee

“Here Mommy, I want you to have this.” My son handed me a small lump of pyrite better known as Fool’s Gold. The metallic-looking substance brilliantly reflected the room’s light causing countless iridescent rays to dance on its crystalized surface. On an ordinary day, this glistening gold gift would have improved my disposition.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” I tried to sound enthusiastic since my little boy was patiently waiting for the praise that should follow such sacrificial generosity. I mean what second grader willingly gives up a glittering mineral? Besides, I was trying to conceal my melancholy mood, but Zach sensed it and wanted to brighten my day.   

Maybe, because I was a single mom, my son learned early on about girls and glitter. Admittedly, all females aren’t fans of glam and bling, although sparkly things do make some of us smile.

Now that he’s a grown man, Zach doesn’t remember that afternoon. Nor would he know about the strange craving for potato chips and hot sauce I had when I was pregnant with him. Those months of pregnancy were the only time I ate this bizarre combination.

Decades ago, greedily munching on greasy chips smothered in smoldering red sauce taught me a valuable lesson. I learned to pay close attention to food cravings, accepting it might be the physical body’s way of saying it has a nutritional need. Our soul and spirit have authentic hunger pangs, too.

This past spring during the Covid-19 lockdown, another strange craving hit me full force. This wasn’t a hankering for an unusual food, rather it was an intense yearning to see something beautiful that glittered. Isn’t this why girls of all ages shop for bedazzled t-shirts, carry ornamented purses, or host costume jewelry parties? Shiny objects don’t have to be expensive, but they do have to glisten in the sunlight.

Bottom line, the pandemic gloom created an emotional hunger for some sparkle. Although, it wasn’t for necklaces, earrings, or sequined shirts. Part of my longing was to bless someone else, because social distancing made me aware of how much I need female friends. Candidly, I must confess I’m not very good at cultivating or nurturing these important relationships.

Yet during the lonely season of sheltering-in-place, I received an inspirational card from a dear friend named Mary. The card’s front cover was sprinkled with decorative gold glitter. It was an encouraging, not-for-any-reason card, reminding me I was “priceless and irreplaceable.”

My friend is in her early eighties. She couldn’t have known how immensely the card would comfort me on some rather dark days while sheltering-in-place. More significantly, I believe Mary has a greeting card ministry. This compassionate retired teacher possesses a spiritual gift to send cards which seem to arrive at the exact moment the receiver desperately needs uplifting. Other women from Mary’s circle can attest to this providential timing.

Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely appreciate receiving a text, email, or personal social media message from a concerned well-wisher. But there’s something special about going to your mailbox and finding an unexpected envelope containing a thoughtful note from a friend.

That’s why, I decided to follow Mary’s example and fill my craving for something sparkly by sending out some greeting cards myself. It wasn’t “essential” to venture out shopping, instead I purchased an assortment of attractive cards on the Internet. Of course, they were decorated with glitter and an uplifting message.  

I ended up mailing a half-dozen greetings out. It was my intent to comfort, encourage, and support a few female family members and friends with some sparkle and heartfelt sentiment. I was blessed back with the incredible sense of reward we receive when we give, expecting nothing in return.

For instance, I had been meaning to send a card to the mother of a former college classmate who died in her twenties. We hadn’t been in touch for decades, but this past year, I couldn’t get my late friend’s mom off my mind, so shutdown gave me time to send her a card.

Her return note turned out to be an unexpected blessing. After all, Covid-19 statistics continue to rise, racial injustice has divided our nation, unemployment is daunting, and we have no idea what tomorrow will hold. Yet this dear lady shared a poignant quote offering hope for the future, “God’s plans are greater than any plans we can imagine.” That’s truly a guarantee a glitter girl can cling to. 

Christina Ryan Claypool is a freelance journalist and inspirational speaker who has been featured on Joyce Meyer Ministries Enjoying Everyday Life TV show and on CBN’s 700 Club. Her most recent inspirational book is “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel.” Her amazing life journey includes surviving a near fatal suicide attempt and confinement in a state mental institution as a teen to having a successful life today. Christina has a B.A. from Bluffton University and an M.A. from Mount Vernon Nazarene University. Her website is www.christinaryanclaypool.com.