Fruit Salad

The drive to Atlanta was as long as it was nearly unbearable. Traffic backed up for miles, drizzling rain, made for a less than wonderful setting. Looking out the window of the car soaking in the familiar landscape that I have gazed on time and time again, I thought about some of the happy times that I had once had, and I longed for them. Anything but this. After a literal two and half hour drive, finally we began to pull up into the parking lot. Much like a child quickly scanning around a new place, I too was wanting to see every detail to where I was. For it being such a busy town, once you began to drive into the quarters, it's almost as if it magically turned into a calm, serene place and it was miles away from all the hustle and the bustle. As we climbed the hill, the main building was in the center of the fork, which parking was to our right and we slowly crept in finding a spot.

I couldn't decide if I was able to breath or not, no one in the car really said anything much, except for the usual cliche comment everyone makes when arriving, "Well, we're here!" I gathered up my purse, and zipped it, slung it over my shoulder and opened up the back car door. Once I stepped out, I looked across the parking lot, not seeing anyone at the entrance. My mouth started to nearly dry out in anticipation, the clinking of my heel boots nearly drowned out the sound of my heart beating. Nearly there, it was too bad the shiny black pavement wasn't a dark midnight sea and I could swim away in. I wanted to be there, really I did, but things had gotten so complicated, until every situation was uncomfortable these days. What if he didn't want to see me? What if I got too emotional and wasn't internally strong enough to be here?

We stepped on the curb, there he was standing with his Bulldog hat, black rim glasses and holding a umbrella, my Dad. I knew it was him, but I honestly wouldn't have predicted what I saw. His complexion was the best I'd ever seen it. When he smiled, even his teeth looked so much more of a brilliant white. He grinned, hugged my grandmother quickly and then scooped me up and hugged me tight. I could feel him shaking a little, but his hug felt different than times passed, it was surreal. Who wants to see their father like this? No one I know, but I was so mixed up, because hated it so terribly bad, yet, I was so thankful that he was there where he needed to be. I kept thinking as I was standing there in his embrace, "so this is what it feels like? This is what it feels like to get a hug from my Dad, sober." He whispered and told me that he loved me and that he was so glad that I came. I told him that I loved him. My grandfather was next hugging his neck, and eyes were obviously misty. Then my Dad guided us inside the Day hospital where we were able to sign in and he lead us to a secluded room so that we could have visitation time for an hour.

He sat next to me and my grandparents spread out over the remainder of the room. It was a peaceful room with a soft neutral green shade that was dressed with a few large dry erase boards that had words and different things scattered all over from class being conducted. Dad kept reaching over and patting my knee, reminding me that he was so glad that I had came. I wondered if he'd expected me to come or if he thought that I wouldn't. I gave my word, that if he was trying to move forward I will always support him. I couldn't help but nearly be lost in what I thought his thoughts were. Soaking up his presence sober, hardly has words. It's almost like going on a blind date, you don't know really anything much about the person that you will be meeting except for the basics that everyone always covers prior to the meeting. I am a grown woman now, and seeing him clear minded, and alcohol free is something I have never seen a day in my life. When I say this, you probably think that somewhere in there that there had to be a time, but I assure you, there hasn't been. My uncle popped in unexpectedly, and we all chatted for a few more minutes and then we made our way to the family group class. We were waiting out in the lobby, and my Dad called me over to a group of people, and he introduced me to a lady that was in his group, along with her husband that was visiting. He seemed very proud to have me there, and I almost walked a little taller because he didn't introduce any of my other family to her. I certainly didn't think it's because I'm so special, and undoubtedly, the rest of my family probably had already met them, but I guess I just wanted to pretend for a moment that I was more important than anyone else to my Dad, if only for a brief introduction.

We made our way, exchanging subtle smiles, we sat down, and Dad was again at my side. We were asked by this kind, but obnoxiously loud mediator for the meeting, to tell who we were and our relationship to the patient and tell how we were feeling. It made it around the circle of chairs, and my Dad stated his name, and said four words, that I have never heard him say before...."And, I'm an alcoholic."

That had to be so hard to say in front of the family that you had adamantly denied this problem to. The level of difficulty I don't want to know, but I imagined that somehow the sense of freedom to just say it out loud was a blessing as well. The words aren't tangible, but seem as such, because I will hold on to finally hearing him claim his issue rather than blame me and my mother for it. My turn rolled around, and I nervously shared that I was good, but I felt like a fruit salad, so many different feelings at that point, but tha I was thankful to be there with him. It is mixed up. Knowing that he has hurt me so deeply, the things I remember him saying that I can not simply shrug off. Years and years of this irractic behavior really messes with your emotions.

He has lied to me, about me, (with believers) and knowing that my own merit didn't amount to a hill of beans with anyone. Knowing that despite all the sorrow, I have still reached out time and time again, and I was then, again, it's frustrating. On the other hand, I am glad to see a change. I need this change for him, and myself. I need affirmation that I am someone special, that I am worth fighting for and not with. I need to know that I am valued and not disposable, and I need all of that from my Dad. A statement was made later by my uncle about 'getting my brother back...' I was so stuck by those words until I had to focus not on the add in comments of other people but fighting back the tears that had began to flood my eyes. I don't know my Dad, not the real Dad. I have known a angry, bitter, hateful, non-participating father. Not the fun loving one that was so full of life. At that moment I realized, that I was practically sitting next to a stranger. If he can make this journey, and stay sober, and fix somethings, I will be finally getting to know my Dad for the first time, or at least that is what I am hoping for.

Tales of Motherhood

I could open this with a fancy line. I could say so many things about mothers. But I am going to keep it within the realm that realistic motherhood is. Its not always glitz and glamour, but lot's of smiles, tender moments and ocassionally fits of frustration! The overwhelming sense of amazement and love that is wrapped up into the tiny bundle of joy taking their first breath of life is miraculous. It goes deeper for a mother because they have been adapting to kicks, movements, hiccups and learning their unique personalities long before their father ever could. The anticipation of their first cry, the first time you touch their soft, delicate skin, seeing them for the first time, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that they are now in your care. You spend your time studying their every wrinkle because you just want to savor every moment with them. Closing your eyes, and inhaling the scent from the top of their little heads.

For months, we sacrifice our sleep for their hunger, sickness, diaper changes, or fixing treats for their class at school. We desperately want to be a witness to every 'first' that they have. We attend field trips, parties, church, family events and doctor and dentist visits. WE create our own fun with picnics in the living room when it rains on our parade, bake cookies just because they feel special & big getting to pour in the sugar. We don't follow rules when the bubble bath says to use only 1 capful, bc we know it's only really a FUN bath if we just pour in the amount we think works good for maximum bubbles. We go to the trouble of setting up our dining rooms for tea parties for our extra special guests' that dress up in their favorite dress up cloths and non-matching jewelry & shoes. They waltz in as if they are royalty and the smiles can't be wiped or scrubbed off their sweet faces bc they are enjoying their special tea time. We make up fake tickets, set up pretend concession stands and let them pretend it's the movie theater and let them order popcorn & drinks and turn their tickets in and enter into the 'theater' in your living room just to make family movie night a little more memorable. We play games until the cows come home because we are snowed in, read books, help brush teeth, learn to skate, ride bikes, play ball, go to the park, and laugh because that is single handedly one of the greatest tools they can have, a joyous laugh each day.

We cry when they are sick, get hurt playing outside, get their shots or disobey because we just love them so. We doctor boo-boo's, fix toys, create new ways to do things, set up Thomas the train tracks and the entire island of Sodor takes over your living room. We become more than protective when anyone hurts their feelings, we want to show those other hoodlum kids who is the real boss! We save lost socks from a life of solitude under beds, we motivate them to eat a really good lunch so they get dessert when their Dad is watching, and sometimes sneak them a piece of cake anyway bc we can't stand them going without.:-) We adore our daughters going to the store in blue jeans, cute shirt, white easter gloves on, with their purse that is stocked with miscellanious items, and see the great pride they have with the chosen attire. Watching our strapping boys stomp around with their red dalmation hat on backwards, plaid shorts, t-shirt and baseball cleats on and he feels like a real man. We call everyone in our cell phones when they achieve something great, or say something hilarious, or we lasso in the best prayer warriors we know when something doesn't go just right.

We rejoice in their salvation, bc we realize our relationships will continue. We guide them to surpass us in our achievments because we want so much more for them. We try so hard to consistantly give them better and more than we ever had. We build firm foundations of Christ, teach them that it doesn't matter what 'everyone' else is doing, that what we say goes, learning to earn instead of having their hand stuck out in expectation. Teach them life doesn't always deal you a fair hand, but that is never an excuse to do wrong or give up, they must face challenges eye to eye and don't back down, respect should be given, and that you don't have to like every task that is laid before you, but completeing that job, and doing it well as if for the Lord himself says more about their character than man's words ever could. Talking and saying things is never enough, the actions and ways we daily live our lives speak the truth of who we are everytime. The Golden Rule should be followed, even when it feels like it stings and burns your heart to execute.

We pray for them when no one knows it, we pick up their stuffed bear from the middle of the living room even though they should have done it. We make excuses to hug them, and our hearts melt when we get slobbery kisses on the cheek. We adore hearing "I love you" from their little mouths, love to watch them sleep peacefully, and when their giggle boxes get turned over, because then so does ours. This happens even when they have done something not good, but they are so darn cute looking back at you, giggling is hard not to do. We sweep up dirt from adventures that carry on from the outside to the inside. We stuff drawings and special stories into a keepsake box for them when they are older. We share stories of family from times passed, we administer band aids, regardless of how microscopic the scratch, followed by M&M candies as their medicine. We fix food plates for stuffed animals or babies that magically come alive right before dinner time.

We teach them manners, and forgivness. We teach patience, love, compassion and integrity. We teach them that Mommy will never be older than 29. We teach them that dessert should be eaten first sometimes, that, friends come and go but family is forever. We teach them that their will never be any greater fans than us, we teach them to be honest, look for the good in others and always seek the common ground even with strangers. We teach that 'Sportsmanship' is above 'Championship." If they can dream it, they can do it. "I can't" isn't acceptable, but 'I tried is". We teach generousity is always a blessing, to both the reciever and the giver and that the only way to God is thru the blood of Jesus.

Somewhere out there, there is a mother that does it all alone and manages to do the job of 2. There is a mother that has the help of her spouse, there is a mother that takes care of a child that is not her own, but loves them as such. There is a mother that has never laid eyes on her child since the day they were born because they wanted a better life for the child than they could give. Somewhere there is a heartbroken mother looking into eyes of children that will never be able to see their deceased father and they couragously face everyday with a smile and a heart of love. Somewhere there are sweet children that will not be able to hug their mothers because they have gone to be with the Lord, because they were obviously too beautiful for this life and God wanted them home with him. Somewhere there is a mother rocking in a chair gazing at a decorated room, with empty arms because maybe her baby was too early and can't come home yet or maybe they have gone home to be with the Lord. Somewhere a mother is dedicating her every breath, thought and action to investing in the lives of the children they have, and no matter which mother you know or are, I wish you the VERY Happiest of Mothers Days and may God bless you and your wonderful families this year and for always!

"How!" says the Indian Chief

How can you try and never succeed?

How can you be nice and think you are doing things right, only to discover that you have been dancing in a facade?

How can words that should mean so much be so empty?

How can people know how they feel at a given moment, and pretend their way thru different situations, only to do a surprise reveal, that they really felt another way?

How can people not accept that somethings are much harder, and always try to out do the circumstances of other people?

How can someone say they aren't right all the time, never find anything wrong with what they do?

How is it possible to literally despise your own self for feeling a certain way about a particular subject, yet at the same time you can't even seem to lasso up your self control & discipline to actually change it?

How does it make sense to wish that things were back the same, yet at the same time you almost dread the reality of it?

How can you see things that are clearly black or white, and rather than doing anything about it, when it's your place to, you sit back with sealed lips?

How can things/or people that are truly equals be treated so unequally?

How can supposedly cleared visioned people not see the twisted maneuvers of others, and fall prey to them time and time again?

How one person be so smart that they are actually dumb a rock?

How can a person be so unteachable and equally lack the empathy to even care if they learn important things or not?

How can someone gripe about the actions that others take because they are so wrong, turn right around and joyfully participate in the same action??

How can a person be so annoying, that even the people who ought to like them......don't?!

How can even uttering your core feelings make you feel like you have been drug across pavement on your bare back....leaving you painfully open and raw?

How can big issues arise and never waver the strength of one, and then a microscopic issue strolls along, and eats away at them like a cavity in a tooth?

How can you love someone and not like them at all??

How is it that certain people can do anything they want wrong and getaway with it scott-free, while the people that actually try to be decent never get away with even a white lie and they are persecuted for it way harder than a worse offense?

How can people be so delusional that they can physically do something, know that everyone knows they did it, play the amnesia card, and anticipate that others will buy it?

How can a person have sweet words ooze from their lips towards a person when they have an audience, then immediately when the 'theater' is empty, flesh-eating-toxic-acidic words be poured on that same person, actually sleep at night, peacefully?

How can someone be an advocate for honesty, be a prisoner of their own lies, when isn't it a famous quote that states, 'the truth shall set you free??'

How can swallowing a horse pill so closely resemble the feeling of choosing to be quiet and hold your tongue even when you are right?

How can taking the glorious 'high road' leave you fighting hypothermia & frostbite, and people who take the 'low road' seem to come out better & happier than a pig in sunshine?

How can strangers & even enemies get our best attitudes & reactions, while the sweet people living within our four house walls get the sloppy leftovers or nothing at all?

How can bad news that weighs down hearts & minds soar high and fast, when the good news that lift spirits, sits stationary on the ground?

How can people never appreciate the people in their lives until after they are dead and gone, and they can't even tell them how they feel?

How can be that the very presence of one solitary person can so drive you to pulling the covers back over your head each morning just for sheer avoidance?

How can people fully realize how irritating they are to to others, willfully continue to be as abrasive as sandpaper with a smile on their face?

How can your feet keep moving forward everyday- when you have no want to and you feel as useless as a play money at the grocery store checkout?

How can people that are supposed to be so well liked and respected, be the ones that are left by their lonesome?

How do people measure others by a different measuring stick than they do themselves?

How is it that some people can be so particular that they are never pleased with anything?

How can some people look at a issue, be understanding and deliver advice, and not practice what they preach?

How can someone have such high expectations from certain people, and get upset- when the wrong-doer is in fact, oblivious to what is expected from them in the first place?

How can anyone possibly think that saying things/or good intentions gives them brownie points, when in reality actions always speak louder than words?

How is effort that everyone expects from everyone else, but no one wants to give it?

How can people that deserve to be happy with their family be stripped away, while people who don't even care about their family lives a carefree life disconnected from the 'people' they love most?

How can we constantly run around with scissors, cutting ourselves short of personal goals?

How is it that a terrible day can be wiped away by the hug and Eskimo kisses you get from your sweet girl when you tuck her into bed?

Unseen Solitude

We could never know the silent moments that one has when they are alone. Assuming that their outward strong appearances must accurately display their attitudes when in their quiet solitude. It's untrue. We must look deeper, truly put ourselves into the shoes of others and lace them up too. I think then and only then, can you get a more on-target glimpse into the lives of others and see their world more clearly.

What you don't see is that sweet gray haired man with a close cut, that wears his coveralls, fishing hat and heavy work boots day in and day out shuffling in sadness. He's warm, welcoming and funny, just as he's always been, but when everyone has gone, and its just him and his black dog, Sonny, he walks a familiar path. This path leads down the hall to his room, standing in front of their closet, opening the door, to reveal neatly hung clothes. Hat boxes stacked according to size, shoes side by side on the floor below. With an admiring look, he grins softly, and pull several of his favorite outfits out and lays them neatly on the bed. He stands back, glances at her picture on the left hand side nightstand. He looks back to the laid out attire, and his mind drifts away into one special night when he and his wife went out for dinner, she wore that beautiful dress, with the brotch he gave her on her birthday fifty years ago, she was always classy and sentimental like that. He had gotten the door for her, helped her with her chair, and even snuck a kiss on the cheek when they left. Looking at the regular old, everyday clothes that she wore day in and day out helping him tirelessly on their peaceful farm. She sure looked as pretty as the day they met. How he longs to just hear her sweet voice, and to see her in those old blue jeans and striped shirt that had a stain on the right side. She was his very best friend. He scoops up all of the clothes in urgency, hugs them, and inhales the scent, hoping to get the smallest hint of her. It's getting harder and harder to do, it's been so long. Standing alone in the room they once shared, he cries as hard as the he did they day he lost her.

What you don't see is the mother standing with a phone in her hand, trying so hard to connect with the child on the other end of the line. So much love for that child, she has tried so hard to prove, and has been unsuccessful. The closed heart of her precious child won't allow reason to soften them at all. Wide-eyed, mouth frozen, heart hurting, she asks herself, "What have I done? What can I do?" She quickly flips thru the past, trying to connect any links whatsoever. Nothing. She has nothing. How could the sweet baby I swaddled and sang to be this way? How can the very child that made the sweetest sounds and had the most gentle tiny voice that would say, "Mommy I love you berry much" utter such hate towards me? I have been there for everything, wanting to be that constant in their life, and without a warning, suddenly I'm the enemy. Harsh words and bitterness is all that rests in the ears of the mother. Once her child finishes with the cruel speech, the line goes dead, leaving her slowing sitting down in the chair, pulling the phone from her tear stained cheek, looking at the phone once again. She clicks the phone off, runs her fingers thru her hair, her chest is tightening, the lump rises in her throat. She can't understand why her own child would be so hateful, why do they feel that they could say such things to her? She is their mother. After minutes of sorting, coming up again, empty handed, she slides into the floor, turning around, burying her face in her hands sobbing. Once she has enough breath, she begins, "Dear Lord, I come to you again, I love my child. My heart is breaking and I need your help...." she lifts this beloved child up to the Lord, she already had forgiven them before she ever uttered the first word, but begged God to help them in a way only he could. A prayer for a child by their mother is the sweetest of prayers, they are selfless and never ceasing. So while a wayward hearted child may kill the heart of their mother, her spirit and her love never dies, and when they thoughtlessly move on in their day, they don't do it without their mother praying to her God for them.

What you don't see is that young lady slowly dying on the inside. She gave away the one and only part of her that can never be recovered again. Suddenly upon leaving, she feels as though her eyes have been truly opened, and the lack of love from his eyes and cold embrace tells her she needed to know. Getting in her car to drive away, she knows that this will be the last time she will ever see him. She can't retract what has been done, but she wants to so badly. The realization that she is forever different, sets in. He moves on, she is frozen.Slowly driving down the gravel driveway, rocks clinking under her car, soft music streams into the air, her lip quivers. Eyes welling up with tears, "How could I have just done this? Why would I fall for what I see now is insincerity? How could I not mean anything to him?" Months later, she has still not shared this anyone. In the dark, face buried in her pillow, staining it with sorrowful, scared tears, a lengthy relationship, abruptly cut off, because the goal had been obtained. She should have been smarter, not let her guard down and been so naive. All she wants to do is wake up, to discover she is still that tiny girl with long brown hair, and the only worry she had enough room to set up her Barbie stuff for when her friends came over. Now her worry is if she will have enough room for a real baby crib. Time is drawing near, she must tell her Mom, but it hurts so much on so many levels. She's a teenager, but she, in these moments, is a terrified little girl, alone. Wondering what the future will hold for her and her new baby.

What you don't see is that man that always felt it a struggle to fit in. Insecure in almost every way, it wasn't hard to feel this way when even your parents zeroed in on you and your flaws. The walls in the family dining room each night felt as if they were closing in. "you'll never amount to anything. Why don't you follow in your brothers' or sisters' footsteps? They are so smart, and will go far....." Any achievement made is overlooked and dismissed as mediocre. There is no pleasing them. Why try? They say they love me, but they don't show it. They couldn't just be happy that I was happy. I got the education I wanted, work the job I love, yet, because it's outside the standards of my parents, it doesn't even register. Years I try to hold my head up high, be strong, but my life has slid downward, and without my noticing. My wife and I don't even live together anymore, I was and am so angry with my life, I took it out on her. Withholding my love for her, I chose anger. Never connected with my children. So I sit here playing back the last few years. What kind of life do I lead now? Not one that my family would approve of I'm sure. A ratty three room apartment, no furniture but a couch and a coffee table, with the picture of my kids, wife and myself just a couple years ago. Feels like forever ago, so much has changed. Everyone thinks I'm a waste of space, they tell me as much these days. I know I'm on the verge of loosing my job, and I don't know that I care. No one liked me there anymore, my frustrations were beginning to seep out. So why not just be done with it already? This question feels oddly logical at this point. Looking at a glass nearly full of my comforting, after hours beverage, a pill bottle full enough to send me into oblivion, this might be the answer. I would never see the look of disappointment in the faces of my wife or children again.I would never burden them again, and my family, well how I wouldn't miss the opinionated views they openly share with me. I am not scared of dying, I'm scared of it not working....I don't want to feel so empty anymore.

Maybe, just maybe if we don't just take the face value of things and look a little deeper, we could see much more. Scratch beneath the surface, and find a way to be a friend or a better friend or better family member. We advocate the Golden Rule, and yet we don't apply it. People are suffering in silence we don't even see, or bother to take up all the context clues of their lives and try to fit the puzzle together. So we must pray for those in our lives that we see openly suffering and those that are hidden.......and pray that we can be a beacon of hope and encouragement so that God's amazing blanketing love can shine in their lives so much brighter!

Father Time is a Jerk

"There is no distance on this earth as far away as yesterday." ~Robert Nathan

I dislike time and its zealous way of always passing too quickly. It seems as if there is too much to do for things that aren't important, that it crowds out the things that are important. If there were a such thing as Father Time, I'd imagine him to sit and scoff watching us piddle paddle around like ants inside an ant pile. Climbing all over each other, going here and there, all having specific tasks to do, but never stopping, just working our lives away.......passing our families, passing up all sorts of wonderful things. I think he speeds up time, because it always seems that you stand with windblown hair, questioning where time has gone. How did your children grow so quickly when they were born 2 days ago?

I can hardly remember what 'slow down' means. I repeat this phrase to my children, anxiously hoping that they will one day heed my warning. I can't even practice what I preach. I can't slow down and relax for 5 minutes. I choked back tears most of the weekend because while I was so fortunate to have my sweet husband home, I, in the back of my mind had so many things that I needed desperately to do. I was needing to do the remaining homework that would be my regular work plus the week it snowed us out for a week, finish everything for Elijah's party and clean house and take kids to practices and games and take the snacks and get ready for church, (to which we didn't succeed at!!)pay the bills, get Tim ready to head back out, Jacob got sick for a brief period of time on Saturday........Many things I'm so very grateful he was here for and then there feels like So many more, utterly unimportant things that demand my time. I feel my precious time is already been prearranged to a schedule without my consent. Like a summer rain, the weekend, with my surprise guest has gone as fast as it arrived. I again say goodbye, watching his handsome face in the rearview mirrow of his truck as he leaves again. As he goes out of sight, I have the heavy weighted reality of another week about to begin, and I must begin my juggling act once again, in solitude.

Things must be done, yes, it's just the American way, but all I want to do is have my weekend back, push the slooooooooow button and really get to focus on my husband being here. I stole as much as I could though-- getting to walk side by side in wal-mart resting my head on his shoulder, hearing his ankle pop when he came up the stairs, drinking coffee with him, I GOT to do his laundry, see him hug on the kids, and the proud smile he displayed watching the girls cheer, the gentle way he snuggled Jacob in his lap when we were at the game, getting to lie next to him for 2 nights, his hugs and kisses being at my disposal and I got to tell him I love you while looking in his eyes! It's alot of things, yes, but still, you know how you want to give more of yourself to your husband, or children, or friends, and with so much going on in your life, it seems nearly impossible. Time is the new 4 letter word that I don't like using anymore, it puts limitations when I don't want them & asks everything of me, all to fly by at lightening speed in return!! It's annoying

But, we are mothers, therefore it's not over until the fat lady sings, so, we shall press on and do this rain, sleet, hail or high waters, broken glass, firey coles, tornados, hurricanes or blazing sun in a desert with no shoes or SPF......why they ask?? Because we are Moms, and real moms know that when the going gets tough, the tough goes shopping!! LOL Retail Therapy people, it saves lives!! :-)

There she is.......Miss Amer-dessert

Ahhhh yes......this must be one of the best topics I have gotten yet!! To list my 4 top favorite desserts!! What a fatabulous thing!! so tonight we'll meet our contestants competing for that title we all hold dear, to be crowned Miss Ameri-dessert!

Ladies & Gentlemen, our first contestant, Miss Pecan Pie!! She's a real bronzed beauty! She's rather tough on the outside, getting that tanned exterior from hot summer days in Georgia! That's right, but don't let that fool you--- she's as sweet as sugar on the inside. She's very popular at social or family holiday gatherings, never disappointing her peers. Miss Pecan knows that a job worth doing is worth doing right, that's why she is sponsored by Karo. She's dependable, and highly valued for having that perfect balance that you need when having a late night cup of coffee. Knowing when to be serious and when to relax is a noble quality we all appreciate. For the younger generation, she often times is misunderstood, all she needs is a chance folks! Many young children with solid God-fearing parents introduce Miss Pecan early, to get a head start on all goodness that she brings. So.... Let's give it up for Miss Pecan Pie!!

Next we have the dark and luscious Miss Chocolate Pie!! She's so lovely, sporting her toasted Meringue jacket over her silky-smooth Chocolate brown evening gown, by designer, Nanny Ruby. Miss Coco has proven herself, and gives to the community whenever she's needed. She is always making appearances at Sunday lunches, church gatherings, holiday parties, and girls nights all across America. With this demanding schedule she manages to fit in the less fortunate, that suffer from severe stress. Lending her ear and hugging these late night sufferers in regular old fashioned kitchens after hours, we've been told as late as midnight some nights. When not answering the call, she enjoys lounging around with her close friends and relaxing no matter what time of day. Miss Coco's heart really is the edification of others thru intense chocolatte communication. Thank you Miss Coco for your contribution!!

Stepping on up is Miss Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies. Miss C, as she prefers to be called, is a petite little gal, with lots to offer. Loyal to her calling, for snacks, birthday parties, teacher gifts, and any day ending with 'y." With a mixture of cocoa, oats and a tad of peanut butter, don't be deceived, she's not holla back girl. Taken for granted by so many, they see her rather average beauty and think she isn't all that special. But we bid the question, have you ever turned her down? Her perfectly blended personality draws in even the chiefest of Dieters. So many events, so little of her to go around. They say it's lonely at the top, and it must be. Seems we always seem just one of her around the food table. The fast paced life of social events would get next to anyone. Regardless her family is highly protective of her. Mr Soup Pot, her wide-bellied father, has a good instinct about those trying to take advantage of Miss C and her giving heart. If he one times senses you aren't up on your game, you won't be taking Miss C anywhere. Great trust in her father proves true, because anyone who has been deemed unworthy will quickly watch her run away upon leaving Mr Soup Pot's presence. I've seen it a hundred times. That's what we love about her though, she's dedicated, such a scarce characteristic these days! Let's thank Miss C for her time...............

Last but certainly not least we have our final contestant, Miss Vanilla Ice Cream!! Wearing many hats, Hot Fudge, Colorful Sprinkles, M&M's, crushed Oreos, Peanuts, Whipped Cream and Fruit, on occasion. Miss Nell has been a true crowd pleaser from the get go. Her fan base extends down children as young a one year, extending to Senior Citizens. From her duo act with her beloved friend, Cake, to her stationary role in a Waffle Cone or even the spoonfuls that are sneaked in the middle of the night, Miss Nell knows how to have fun! Seasonal scheduling forces her to have a somewhat limited presence in the spring and summer months, still she is always looking for how she can be more versatile. Surprising fans after a job well done, or her terrific Swim routine in Coca Cola classic & Root Beer! That is what she's the best at, connecting with people. You can't get any friendlier than Miss Nell.

So now as the ladies step back up, let's give them one last round of applause for their incredible contributions to their local and international communities. Alright as we await the decision, let me also add that, upon winning all runners up will receive a scholarship to the Grocery Store of their choice. Drum roll please.................well I don't believe it.........this is unheard of and the first time in the history of this contest............. well Miss Pecan, Miss Coco, Miss C & Miss Nell, it's my pleasure to tell you that you are all going to be crowned Miss Ameri-dessert!! All of the Taste Judges agree that you are all outstanding citizens and worth of the crown. May you enjoy your new position, remembering that you beat out other worthy competitors, we expect great things from you!! Congratulations!!!