Parable of the Pie

My good friend from school gave this to me, his sister wrote it down as it happened to her. I really enjoyed it and thought you all might as well:

Maybe all moms have something they make especially well. For my mom, it is her apple pie. She doesn’t make it often and we all look forward to Thanksgiving because mom’s apple pie is as sure to be made on that day as the Turkey. On this particular Thanksgiving I was ten-years-old. The noon meal was a success and by evening there was just enough left-over apple pie for three pieces. Seeing this, my father took the pie to the table and called his children in to sit down. My father cut the pie into three disproportionate pieces; a piece that was an exact third of what remained, a much larger piece, and a remaining smaller piece. He put each piece on a plate and passed it out, giving me the smallest piece. My father acknowledged the pie was divided up unfairly and went on to explain, although close in age, we would grow up and have different lives, with different strengths, incomes, health, and challenges. He wanted us to be prepared for when that time came.

He turned to my eleven-year-old sister, Natalie, who had the largest piece of pie, and said, “You have a much bigger piece than either of your sisters. Don’t you want to share your pie with them?” I would like to tell you Natalie did share her pie, but she did not. Instead, she gave my father an incredulous look, smiled, and ate her pie in front of us. Do not judge my sister. She was eleven after all and probably not the best choice to give the largest piece of pie to (if hoping for a different outcome). My father then turned to my twelve-year-old sister, Marlain, who had an exact third of the remaining pie, and asked if she would like to share with her youngest sister who had less. I would like to tell you Marlain shared her pie, but she did not. She complained it was unfair to ask her to share, when it was Natalie who had the largest piece. And so, Marlain ate her pie. Again, do not judge my sister. Although she was older, she was only twelve, and in her mind, justified. I thought, “It is so unfair! Why do I always get the smallest piece of everything?” My father then turned to me – suspecting I felt jilted – and he was right. He chided me saying, “Why are you upset? You have pie. You should be happy.” He then went on to say it was probably healthier to have a smaller piece and I should be happy for my sisters because they had received more than me.

I was ten. My father’s intended lesson did not go well. No one shared. No one appeared to listen and I’m sure my father believed he had failed in his attempt to teach us. For me, it was an experience I looked back on repeatedly, and my perspective gradually shifted as I contemplated that day. For some time, I remembered it as a day of unfairness and wondered if my father even loved me, or at least, if he loved me less than my sisters who he had given a larger portion. Eventually, and long overdue, I came to a point of acceptance and reconciliation, and was able to acknowledge my father was well-intended, my sisters were young, and I forgave them.

As more time passed and I matured, what my father had predicted came true. My sisters and I did have different lives, levels of education, income, talents, and challenges. I found myself able to feel happy for others when they had more than me and compassion for them in their challenges when they had less. I was even able to roll my eyes and agree that a smaller piece of pie was ultimately healthier. There was another, more substantial benefit in having the smallest piece. Would the day have held the same significance and would I have spent as much time thinking about it if I had not received the smallest portion? Probably not. In this way, I learned to be grateful for my adversity and the impact it had on my life.

Like the pieces of pie, there are areas in life where I am disproportionately blessed, sometimes giving me a “largest” piece of pie. I would like to tell you that at these times, I always share, but it would not be true. There are times I am tempted to want more. A larger portion places me at a crossroads with an opportunity to either keep my abundance within myself or use it to help others.

There are also areas in life where I fall in the middle. Areas where some people have more and others have less. I would also like to tell you at these times I always share, but again, it would not be true. There are multiple excuses, like it is someone else’s responsibility, or someone else has a “larger piece”, or it would be a hardship – not necessarily true, but serves its purpose as an excuse. I have realized that these times also present opportunities where I am given a choice between my own self-interest and the interests of others.

There are areas of life where I believe I have the smallest portion of pie – areas where I feel I have less to offer than most. In fact, there are even areas and times where I believe I have no pie – areas where I feel entirely incompetent and unable – where I am called upon by life to build-up my own capacity, or “make my own pie”, so I have something to offer.

I learned all the lessons my father intended, albeit many years later. However, I continued to think about this day and came to realize there was an additional lesson for me to learn. At age ten and even beyond, I was so consumed with my comparatively small piece of pie, and the unfairness in how it was divided, it was decades before I realized at my same table was my father who had no pie. He had given all of it to us and had taken none for himself. What I could have done and should have done, was to share my pie with him. But because my focus was on myself and what I lacked compared to those around me, I failed to see there was someone who lacked even more right in front of me.

In reflection of this day, my understanding has grown to the point that as I think of this memory now, I think of it as “The Parable of the Pie”. It helps shape the gratitude I feel for all things in my life, so my message to you is this… It is Thanksgiving. Let’s you and I be grateful for all we have, so we are better able to recognize the needs of those around us, and share all of our pieces of pie.

Wishing You and Yours a Wonderful Thanksgiving,

Valerie Burgess