Hot Dogs Worth the Price of Filet

This is another guest entry by my very close friend, Sarah Jurewicz.

On a recent trip to Minnesota, I spent some time on the lake. In Minnesota, this is not an atypical way to spend nice-weather days. It is true: there is a lake everywhere you look. It’s the land of 10,000 lakes and the last census identified that now there are even more than that. That’s a lot of water. A body of water is mesmerizing and perplexing – at once calm and peaceful at another time tumultuous and threatening. Mostly it is serene and tranquil to my spirit; simply by being on the water I am relaxed and happy. This last visit to the lake was a time for my partner, Kelly, to visit with her family, for her to fish (which she loves to do) and for me to read a couple of books while floating adrift on the water. The site where we stayed had many established friends of Kelly’s family and, of the four days we were there, we shared meals with them a couple of times. While most of the meals are planned events where person “A” brings a salad while person “B” brings the veggie side dish and so on, other times it may be a BYOP – bring your own plate – and all gather on someone’s deck to enjoy one another’s company while eating.

One evening Kelly and I had finished a run, in air that felt like it had half the lake water suspended in it, when we stopped in at a neighboring porch where a half dozen people were sitting, including Kelly’s parents. It was coming up on dinnertime so we decided to prepare food to eat and while we were at it, we decided to make enough to share with everyone. When we came back to the social porch with food in hand, the group was delighted! They thanked us so many times you would have thought we made them filet mignon, twice-baked potatoes and roasted asparagus (one of my personal favorite meals). The feast was hot dogs, potato salad and a mixed green salad – almost close to filet. It seemed like a simple decision to make food for everyone as long as we were preparing dinner for ourselves but their reaction to our act made it feel so much more important. As I was cleaning up after dinner I realized that all of these people, besides Kelly’s parents, are women who live by themselves at the lake. The gesture of making dinner for them was indeed one of importance because it gave them a “night off” from cooking and cleaning and allowed them to just relax and enjoy one another’s company and have someone cater to them, even if it was just hot dogs and salad. This exchange proved to me, yet again, that you never know how impactful an act, even one that seems minor and simple, can be to someone. It was no burden for us to prepare dinner for this small group of people and, if anything, their appreciation heightened the natural joy I get from making a meal for people. As usual, this act of kindness benefited not just the receiver, but also, the giver.