December 22

…And Chitlin’s are my Favorite Dish

In chattel slavery, massa often tossed these “undesirable” bits to the slaves…the scraps, the unwanted, the trash…fitting for our kind

In West African heritage, long before, a delicacy seasoned and delivered from recipe’s long handed down

…and I stand in line…

With my bowl with rice…and a bit (never liked too much) of hot sauce on the side

Their trash turned into an annual delight, Christmas only…my hands would rub together when that awfully good smell started to fill the air – the potato added to the dish doing little to cover

It’s almost time! Just 5 more hours and the chitlins are mine

I wonder if I can ask for seconds, maybe I should skip lunch?

From gut wrenching stories of lack, freedom and all

Comes life from the dust that massa stepped on

My enslaved ancestors knew, from memory, how to turn those “scraps” into a soul filling meal and West African heritage has now come to fill my belly

At 9 years old, knowing no shackles, I come to grab my share

…and say grace, to God, right before the main event begins

and to this day, at the age of 46

chitlin’s remain my favorite dish

Amen.

Prayer

Promised One, we, too, pray for a sign that justice will come,
love will be born anew,
and all of us will experience abundant life.
Show us the way beyond our fears through the nourishment of our ancestors.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.  Amen.