This morning I was rearranging a few things in the refrigerator when I came across some summer sausage that we had received as part of a Christmas package from relatives in Wisconsin. (The term “summer sausage” comes from the method used to preserve meat long ago so that it would not spoil without refrigeration in the summertime.)
Growing up in Wisconsin, summer sausage was a staple at our house during the fall, winter, and spring, but ironically, never in the summer. For lack of a better way to state it, summer sausage and cheese were comfort foods in our house during the majority of the year.
The memories that trigger when I see summer sausage, as I did this morning, go back to my parents. My dad owned a real estate agency and the business worked out of our home. Dad had the opportunity to meet a wide variety of people and, through word-of-mouth, my dad became known for helping people who were down and out.
The phone rang so frequently at our house because of business calls. But if it rang before 8 am, we realized that it would probably be someone who was hungry, sick, or cold. My parents would jump to the ready and I would be asked to go down to the basement to get “the box.” The box basically contained a care package.
The box would always hold the following:
- two or three pounds of cheese
- one-third of a long stick of Peter’s Thuringer sausage
- freshly baked bread or sweet rolls (Mom loved to bake!)
- canned fruit (usually blackberries)
- an African violet or another plant (Mom loved plants too!), and
- a devotional like Our Daily Bread.
We had one box that would hold all of these things. After my dad delivered the contents to a particular family, he would bring the box back so we could use it again. If the call came on a Saturday when I wasn’t in school, I would help Dad deliver the box.
In one instance, I remember an elderly lady with a mentally challenged son. Mrs. E. called to ask for help because both she and her son were sitting in a cold house, they needed fuel oil for their furnace, and they had no food. The son had been making extra money, looking for discarded cans in the park, but it wasn’t park season. The mother had a scarce Social Security check that was going mostly for the house payment. Dad had never met the family before, but he later refinanced the house for Mrs. E. so that she and her son could more easily make ends meet.
Seeing that summer sausage in the refrigerator today takes me back to recalling so many instances of people in need. I think with the sadness of this past week, we could all use a little comfort food right now. Summer sausage and cheese are on my menu.
Love this.
So happy you do! This came to me at 2 am this morning. I guess I was dreaming of sausage.
How great! Kindness goes a long way especially these days. Kmarie
Thanks, KMarie. Kindness can never be overrated.
My mom’s family is from Chicago (not Wisconsin, but close) and of German-Polish decent. Summer sausage and cheese (maybe some Braunschweiger on rye with brown mustard) always comforts my soul similarly to what you have described.
I especially loved hearing how your family helped those in need, and in an actionable way that really changed lives. No wonder you were a teacher. It was in your DNA.
Your blogs just make my day!
Love to you, my friend.
G
Gina, I didn’t know that your mom’s family background is German-Polish. My ancestry is the same! My dad’s first language was German, but as the years unrolled, he lost his ability to communicate in German. Mom’s family background is Polish. There is a large Polish population around Green Bay. Thanks for your sweet comments. Hope all is well with you.
I just finished my work shift and walked to my car and decided to take a moment to just sit and be still after an emotionally and physically draining day.
I needed to free my mind of some events that took place today that caused me to feel insecure and out-of-sorts for the better part of my day. So, I figured I’d use this time to read and respond to text messages I hadn’t yet replied to and also scroll through my emails while I catch my breath before heading home.
Karleen, reading your story of how your family cared about people in your community and the thought of how something so simple as summer sausage brightening someone else’s day and lightening their load was so touching and a joy to read. It was just what I needed to
get my mind off of my own woes and realize how insignificant they are compared to others like the families your parents and you were able to help and look after.
Thank you for the pick-me-up!
Well, you just picked ME up, Kim! I am really touched by your response to the post today. I’m sorry you had a hard day. Work can be full of challenges, but I’m sure you gave it your very best. Hugs!
Love this story, Karleen. What great memories.
Thanks, Theresa. It’s funny how one thing can trigger some memories.
Your parents were amazing! I vaguely knew they helped people, but I never heard about the box! We grew up on summer sausage (Thuringers, if course!), cheeses and homemade bread. I remember your mom’s African violets!
Thanks, Sue. There are many more stories I could tell about their generosity. And with the African violets, our house was full of them!