I guess I can pin the blame for loving fruit cake on Dale. You see, I was conditioned to believe that fruit cake was a joke of sorts; dry, shriveled slabs of dehydrated fruit surrounded by miniscule pieces of walnuts and pecans. Nasty stuff, I was told. And of course, with that preconceived notion, I ingested very little of this Christmas staple – until I met Dale.
“I love fruit cake,” he said during our first Christmas together. “Fruit cake gets a bad rap,” he told me. And with that, he opened a colorful tin of Hickory Farms Dark Fruit Cake, soaked in brandy and guaranteed to be moist and delicious. He handed me a generous slice of the cake along with a glass of sparkling spring water, a poinsettia napkin, and a smile.
I didn’t have the heart to refuse him and I took a nibble. Not bad. I took a drink of the ice cold water, closed my eyes and took a larger bite. It was most definitely moist. And the pecans and walnuts were full size and fresh. The fruit was sweet, with just a touch of brandy flavoring. Each bite was more delicious than the one before and in no time I had eaten that first piece and gladly accepted a second.
“This is not what I expected,” I said. “I guess I never really gave fruit cake a fighting chance.”
Over the years we have gone from Hickory Farms fruitcake to Trappist Monk fruitcake to Texas Manor fruitcake to – well, just about every brand available. To be honest, I even like the tiny, rectangular slices of fruitcake from the dollar store.
And speaking of stores, how I loved Caribou’s downtown area of years ago. The walk from Newberry’s to Penney’s and on down absolutely glowed! The beloved J.J. Newberry store displayed their artificial Christmas trees in the front window, along with many of the items available within.
Mom and Dad and I loved to sit in our car in front of that very window, mesmerized by the lights and the crowd of shoppers. I longed for a white Christmas tree. I was well aware of the fact that the green trees were much more practical and realistic, but my heart belonged to that brilliant white, magnificent tree and the multicolored lights and ornaments that adorned it. Most folks, my parents included, would never consider purchasing such an “impractical and gaudy imitation” but I dreamed of the day I would place one in my own home and I am proud to say that I made that dream come true this year. A white Christmas tree with pink, lime green, electric blue, and neon yellow lights sits in my living room. And there beneath the boughs sits a golden nativity scene; a firm reminder of the true reason for the season.
Far too often, we form opinions based solely upon the experiences of others. Not only do we form opinions, but we sometimes develop prejudices; consequently locking ourselves behind walls of indifference and narrow mindedness. I remind myself every day that it is OK to march to the tune of a different drum. It is OK to go against the grain. It is OK to open locked doors. It is OK to look beneath the surface. And yes, it is absolutely, positively OK to love fruitcake.
Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale.
