Daddy's Ambrosia

Daddy’s Ambrosia

6 oranges
8 ounce can of crushed pineapple
1 banana, diced
1 apple, diced
¼ cup of shredded coconut
Sweeten to taste

Yummy ambrosia. I’ve seen a variety of recipes of ambrosia but this one represents my family’s tradition. Every Christmas my father makes ambrosia. It is the only time of the year that he makes it. We would often eat it following Christmas dinner with a piece of home-made pound cake. Ambrosia is light, healthy and could be served year round. It is a great complement to any meal. In the morning, have it with a toasted bagel or scone. It could be a light snack or dessert.

Juice the oranges. In this case, I cut the six oranges in half and used a manual juicer. For this recipe, keep the juice along with the pulp. Pour into a larger bowl. Add the remaining ingredients and stir. This recipe can be sweetened with either sugar or artificial sweetener. I added 4 small packets of Sweet N Low. You may choose not to sweeten it at all.

A Tribute to My Father
I did not know how much you loved me until recently. When I was much younger I expected your love to come in the form of hugs, kisses and tenderness. This was not your way, nor was it your father’s way. I thought if it wasn’t the Cleaver’s or Cosby’s love, then there was no love. And sometimes mothers, because of the challenges that they face with the fathers add more complexities, impediments and smoke screens. And while little girls need the affection of their fathers, they also need a whole lot more. For so long I was asleep but now I am awake. Now it is quite clear to me. Love is provided in many different ways.

You loved me when you came home every night of my life. I remember lying in my bed and hearing the quick heavy steps in the kitchen and hallway. There was never a concern of where you were, what you were doing and who you were with because you were working. You had your government job by day and your tax business by night. I did not ever worry about the basics. There were also piano lessons, sports and camp – all requiring an investment of time and money. Even with that we were given a weekly allowance after completing our chores. You provided a stable home thus a firm foundation.

I remember when you taught me to ride a bike. You propelled me forward and yelled Pedal, pedal, pedal! I swerved and wobbled along the street trying to understand the relationship between pedaling and steering my new bike. Later, you taught me to drive a car and yelled Stay in your lane! Learning to ride a bike was much more fun.

You loved me when you required that I be educated. How many times did you tell me and my brothers about the importance of education? Girl…guess what? I walked 5 miles to school. You told me that grandpa wanted both of his girls to be educated, just in case they ended up marrying somebody sorry. That was a pretty strong conviction to have for girls born in the 30’s and 40’s.

You loved me by sharing stories about our history. You were born in 1934 in North Augusta, South Carolina. It was not the best time but it was your time. When a teen, you had to deny that you were in school so that you could get summer jobs. They wouldn’t hire you if they thought you were smart and trying to get an education. No suh…I don’t go to no school. And guess what girl? At the end of the summer we quit those jobs. Oh yeah…oh yeah! Then, you laugh hysterically. Later, you took your education, went to the bus station and got a one-way ticket to New York. The decision of how far north to go was based on what you had in your pocket that day. You did not allow your history to be a problem for me.

You also talked about Big Ma’s (your grandmother) house and how everybody would gather there together on Sundays. Everybody may have gone to different churches that morning but on Sunday afternoon you met at Big Ma’s house. During the week, your parents and 7 siblings ate off the land and didn’t eat meat every day. Dinner might have been some field peas and tomatoes. Nawww girl….we didn’t eat meat every day. No, no…nawwwwww. You told me about pound cakes that could stand up because that’s how big and dense they were. Even today when you mention these pound cakes you take off laughing. From time to time you ask me if I remember going down to the country. Coming from Maryland, visiting North Augusta was the country. But while there, I remember going down long dirt roads that never seemed to end, a car without air conditioning, and hot vinyl seats that my brown legs stuck to in the dead of summer. So yes, I remember. You always ask me if I remember something…probably so I won’t forget. Isn’t this also love?

And throughout my life you have loved me through jobs, relocations and apartments. You ask me about bosses, friends and places I have long forgotten. I remember when I called to tell you that I bought my first home. I never heard such excitement from you. Girl, that was the best thing you could have done for yourself! Over the years, you have loved me in so many different ways. It doesn’t really matter if I was paying attention or not. I was still being loved.

Bacon Pleasers
1 package of crescent rolls
4 slices of swiss cheese
3 eggs
¾ cup milk
1 tsp. minced onion
4 slices of crispy bacon, crushed
1 tsp parsley

Preheat oven to 425. Grease and flour a 13X9 baking pan. Spread rolls on bottom of pan and add cheese. Combine (blend) egg, milk and onion. Pour over cheese. Sprinkle with bacon and parsley. Bake for 15-18 minutes.


I often hear people diagnose themselves as being people pleasers. In its purest sense it means to give satisfaction to others or to be agreeable. This is wonderful when coming from a place of sincerity and truth. However, most often when this is said, it is implied that someone is doing something that they really didn’t want to do.

On the other end of the spectrum are those that constantly seek pleasure. In today’s culture, there is so much external stimulation driving us from one thing to the next. Throughout the day, no matter the task at hand, we are interrupted with thoughts of other things we could be doing or prefer to be doing. It may be the norm, however, it isn’t natural or how we were created to be. One can look to the seasons of the year and see that there is a time to flourish, to slow down and even to be dormant.

Instead of being pleasers or seeking pleasure, first, we must know pleasure. We need to know pleasure for ourselves and not in relationship to anyone else’s experiences or beliefs. Pleasure does not have to be of a particular magnitude to be enjoyed. It doesn’t have to be a vacation, a job promotion or a new car. It could be as simple as a walk in the park, spending time with friends, learning something new or merely an observation. After knowing pleasure, we then have to hold on to it. Think of how often we choose to hold onto our pain and offenses. What would happen if we were to ponder our joyful experiences over and over again?

Although there are many, I can think of a few pleasure-filled moments that I’m not too embarrassed to share.

There is the random, serendipitous pleasure. This type of pleasure happens when we aren’t trying to produce it. Several years ago, a childhood friend and I did some last minute holiday shopping. By last minute, I mean it is Christmas Eve and we are leaving the mall and the doors are being locked behind us. We weren’t ready to call it a night. It isn’t often that I am home and see my old friend. After leaving the Annapolis mall, we decided to drive down to the harbor. We parked several blocks away from our destination and made our descent towards the dock – passing by many quaint shops and restaurants. There were a few people wandering around. It was cold but not unbearable. We went into a coffee shop that looked out onto the harbor. As we sat in the coffee shop it began to snow. It fell onto historic Annapolis with its 18th century buildings and cobblestone streets. It fell onto the docked white boats, some decorated with holiday lights, others too striking for decoration. It fell onto the leaning Christmas tree just outside of the Market House. It fell as we sat in the window, drinking something warm and comforting, and saying nothing at all. It was a moment of pure joy and contentment.

There is the pleasure that comes from laughter. Last Fall, I went with a walking buddy to Stone Mountain Park. It was overcast, cloudy and chilly. You know, one of those days in which you stay inside. We had rescheduled many times and were determined to meet on this particular day. As soon as we began our 5 mile walk around the mountain, it began to lightly mist. Surprisingly, it continued to either mist or lightly rain the entire walk. A couple of hours later we finished - soggy, tired, cranky and cold. Did I mention that I brought my dog along? Yet, what I remember most about that day was the laughter. We laughed about our glasses fogging up, our noses running and putting a wet, muddy dog into the back of my car with nothing to dry her with. We laughed because we didn’t believe it would rain the entire time, but somehow it did. Most of all, we laughed at our stupid determination to walk that morning.

There is also pleasure that comes from the absence of discomfort. In our lifetime we will not be able to escape grief, heartache, illness or disappointment. Quite recently, I distinctly remember experiencing this type of pleasure. Having undergone surgery, I was lying in my bed and resting. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. My room was full of light and the house was very quiet. The only sound I was aware of was that of the air conditioning coming through the overhead vent. And for a few moments I felt no pain, discomfort, fear or any of the other vulnerabilities that one experiences after undergoing major surgery. I was at peace. I knew that everything was going to be alright. For me, that was pleasure.

What’s your pleasure? Know it and hold on to it.


This recipe comes by way of the Faculty Favorites recipe book. This recipe book was published in 1990 by Magothy River Middle School located in Arnold, Maryland where my mother spent the majority of her teaching career.