When I was very sick one day, and could not get out of bed, my son, a young teenager at that time, made a soup for me with all kind of fresh and colorful vegetables. It reminded me of my mom’s vegetable soup from the mountains of the French alps. Her soup was the best soup one can ever have, because her garden grew in idyllic nature and was tended every day with utmost sincerity.

So, the son of the house was making a soup for me. From my bed, I was already rejoicing. I was surprised he could cut the vegetables perfectly, and put together all these delicious products of the earth in a big pot to simmer.

I remember the taste of that hot soup, made with all my son’s heart and attention, and care. Is it not so, that we always remember things which are offered with love?

The soup tasted so good. Spiritual elements can go into the food when it is prepared with good feelings. The spiritual elements, the love, in the soup went deep into my bones, reviving me from feverish slumber, and starting the healing process. The soup really helped me get out of bed that day.

This is a good memory of my son’s filial piety.

Every day let us make good memories from our life. And if we have none or just a few, then we need to rewrite our life stories.

Always with love, your friend Elisabeth