Butterfly for Breakfast with Baked Oatmeal Recipe
Sometimes
grace unfurls its wings and settles in the least deserving and unlikely of
places. On any given morning at our
breakfast table we feast on a buffet of whining, spilling, complaining,
begging, belching, singing, scolding, story telling, scientific instruction,
day planning and oh yes, food. Yesterday
we were startled out of our small busy selves to delight in new life.
Michael
had gone out to do the milking. (This
doesn’t happen every morning, but our friend who usually milks is on vacation
so for these weeks he is doing it.) I
made baked oatmeal with last summer’s frozen blueberries that we are still
enjoying until the ones on the bushes ripen.
While breakfast baked, my eight and ten year olds sprawled on the
couches and read while I tried to wash some dishes and unearth our kitchen
table and counter from the layers of end of the school year papers. At breakfast time I insisted that they get
dressed even though school is out. My
eight year old daughter, Zora, came down dressed for a birthday party that would
happen two days from then. I reminded
her that if she wore those clothes now and they got dirty they wouldn’t be
clean on Saturday. (We share 2 washing
machines with 40 people -and one is broken now- and only line dry our clothes
so just washing and drying whenever is not an option.) I try not to be too controlling about what
the kids wear but, I have been trying to help the kids think about “town”
clothes and “farm” clothes. I think I
seemed more controlling than helpful. She
kept on the sweet outfit but her mood had soured considerably.
We
gathered around the table and I suggested that we sing a couple of songs like
Bruderhoff families do in their homes at breakfast. Since Michael had milked and I’d made
breakfast I felt very wholesome and “farmy.”
Zora whined, “Why do we have to be like other families? Why can’t we just be like our family?” And I retorted, “Why can’t our family sing
together before we eat?” At three year
old Phoebe’s suggestion we sang, “This Little Light of Mine.” Phoebe, sang beautifully while Zora buried her
head in her arms, big brother, Malachi sang and mocked her while five year old
Seraphina was still in her room getting dressed (we’ve learned not to rush
her). Malachi suggested “All God’s
Critters Got a Place in the Choir.” We started to sing but Phoebe broke into
hysterics while Zora still pouted. I
sighed, “Maybe one song is enough for today.”
Zora
and Seraphina had Raisin Bran because my food looked awful. The rest of us
enjoyed the baked oatmeal. Michael and I
were drinking coffee and talking through the plans for the day when suddenly I
gasped. There on the shelf behind the
table was a butterfly! We had been
expecting it but it still took my breath away.
I brought the green caterpillar home on a sprig of parsley two weeks ago
and put it in a glass trifle dish as our centerpiece. We delighted as it munched through leaves and
pooped. Then we watched it get very
still on its twig. One morning it was caterpillar the next chrysalis. After that it got a little boring. A dry stick in a glass dish full of
caterpillar poop isn’t so attractive so I moved it off the table. The night before, I had notice that the
chrysalis had turned black- a sign that a butterfly would emerge soon. But in all the bustle of getting four kids
bedded down I forgot to mention it. It
was only when we saw it gently opening and closing its new wings that we
remembered that we had invited it in to our home.
I got
the twig and held it at the table while we all watched it. Malachi reminded us of a caterpillar that we
raised in Philadelphia. The butterfly
ended up flying in our kitchen and its wings were damaged before it ever went
outside. We were not going to repeat that tragedy.
So, Michael grabbed the camera and we went outside and stuck the stick
in a potted plant and watched it. Zora
gently put out her finger for it to crawl onto then she let it back onto its
twig. Michael snapped some shots and we
all went back in. Not fully redeemed but
in that twinkling moment turned one degree closer to glory.
We weren’t suddenly transformed
into a new family. There are still books and papers on almost every horizontal
surface. There are baskets full of
dirty, folded and needing to be folded laundry.
The sink is full of dishes. The
kids still whine and fuss. But, the six
of us got quiet enough for one moment to watch a butterfly and to delight
together. We invited a stranger into our
home and it blessed us beyond measure. I
hope that is what they will remember when they are older.
Baked Oatmeal with
Blueberries (modified from Simply in Season)
Preheat oven to 350F
Combine:
2 cups rolled oats
1/3 cup Brown Sugar
1 tsp baking powder
In a 4 cup measuring
cup (so that you don’t have to dirty up a bowl) whisk together:
one cup of milk
Add ½ cup of applesauce
2 T of
oil
1
beaten egg
Pour over oat mixture. ( I had about a cup of leftover
cooked oatmeal that I added at this point too) Mix well. Stir
in 1-2 cups of fresh or frozen blueberries
Pour into a greased 8 inch square pan. Bake 25 or so (I think I baked it longer
maybe 45 minutes because the leftover oatmeal made it mushier).
Serve warm with milk. (offer dry cereal to your picky eaters)