I believe in waffles. I know you’re probably thinking this is silly and that I’m not serious. But, it’s not and I am. Now you’re probably waiting for some deep metaphor for what the squares and ridges symbolize. But, no, we’re talking real butter and syrup, cook in an iron waffles here.
So, what’s so great about waffles you wonder now? Well, it starts with intense volleyball games and a brother with cancer. It’s about late night AP Chem study groups and a once broken jaw. It has to do with terrorist attacks and local kidnappings. It’s about cheating, lying, bleeding, crying, sweating, breaking, and aching. All of this screams waffles.
Shame-worthy sin or collapse-provoking triumph, give me a waffle. Scratch, break or bruise on my flesh or heart, give me a waffle. Whether I’m ready to punch or ready to sob, give me a waffle. Surprising luck or boring monotony, give me a waffle. In times of mononucleosis, first place, and being way past curfew, give me a waffle. Worried about hurricanes and Middle-East peace, give me a waffle.
We all get beaten down, frustrated, angry, and win exhausting victories. There are days of sorrow, moments of guilt, and times of deserving pride. We all need somewhere simple to turn. For me, it’s the waffle, crisp buttermilk and flour. It’s edible comfort and encouragement, a moment of solace and recuperation. The waffle is an escape, a job well done or a cool-down for anger. It’s a pat on the back or expecting more of myself. The waffle is hope for better days and a better self. I eat it. It’s short. It’s simple. But, I crave it in the highs and lows of my life.
In these times of warfare, drugs, and crime we all need a tangible escape of some kind. We all need a waffle. . . or a song or a walk or a chick flick. We’re a stressed society. We need simple rewards and simple comforts. We mess-up, we blow-up, and too quickly we grow-up. Take time to learn, take time to enjoy. That’s the point of the waffle. Breakfast, midnight, dinner, lunch, or snack, give me a waffle when I need it most. I don’t need a preacher, a party, or any pain meds you throw my way. I don’t fish for compliments or throw my troubles on anyone else. Just give me a waffle, two if necessary. I will fight through, grow stronger, and be ready to take my place in the world. Yes, I believe in waffles.
Submitted by my mother who is also the AP Literature teacher that introduced my class to This I Believe and who first introduced me to waffles.
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