Can Corn on the Cob be the Key?
Steffani Raff

“Who wants to go on a treasure hunt?”

A chorus of nine young voices answered Grandma’s question with a loud, “We do!”  Grandma and Grandpa are expert treasure-hunt planners and all their grandchildren know it.  Before the treasure hunt could begin, they all had to agree to a temporary banishment from the campsite, so the treasure could be hidden properly.

Joey and Abby spent their “banishment” with their dad at the lake.  They discovered the fascination of fishing this summer and were glad to have an afternoon to fish.  Joey is five years old, with a corresponding attention span.  The calm lake water could only hold his attention for so long. 

His thoughts went back to the treasure hunt.  Visions of buried pirate treasure chests overflowing with gleaming gold and jewels filled his head.  When you’re five, it’s tough to think about anything without talking about it at the same time.

“Daddy, when do we get to find the pirate treasure?”

“Pirate treasure?”

“Yah, Grandma said we’re going on a treasure hunt.”

“Right.”  Kevin smiled at Joey’s misunderstanding, knowing the treasure he would be searching for was actually a bag of back-to-school supplies.  Not wanting to disappoint Joey or diminish Grandma’s surprise he said, “You know Joey, there are a lot of different kinds of treasure.”

“What?  More than pirate treasure?”

“Yes.  There are many different kinds of treasure.  What can you think of that would be a treasure to you?”

“Candy.” Abby announced matter-of-factly.

“Treats?” added Joey.

“Yes.  You know, one of my treasures is spending this time with you.  Daddy has to work most of the time and being able to spend a whole day with you is a real treasure.”

Joey stopped talking and focused once again on his fishing pole.  A long quiet passed between them.  Joey looked at his dad, and in a thoughtful way said, “Daddy, I’ve been thinking about it and I know what my real treasure is.”

“What is it?”

“My real treasure is my family.”

Many of you probably share Joey’s sentiment: “My real treasure is my family.” 

Every family has a treasure chest.  It isn’t necessarily a tangible container, nor is it filled with tangible treasure.  Instead it holds something much more powerful, much more valuable.  The treasure this chest holds is your family’s story.  This story creates a family identity.  It has a way of connecting unique individuals as a cohesive unit.  It is the essence of what it means to be a part of your family. 

For some families, the chest is locked up a little tighter than for others.  Whether you feel like your treasure chest is lost on a deserted island, buried in the bottom of a sunken ship, or hidden in the dense, tangled undergrowth of the jungle, there are keys to finding and unlocking this chest.  Once you find the right key, sharing the wealth of your family’s story is no longer such a mystery.

One of the keys is noticing your environment.  There are story-triggers all around you.

Finding the Story-Triggers

Imagine there is a meatloaf at the center of your table.  Let’s say it looks like it just won the Betty Crocker Award for distinguished main dishes.  It is the perfect mix of savory-succulence and down-home cooking. 

Has it always looked this way?  Was there ever a time it didn’t turn out so well?  Was there ever a time “the thing on the table” looked like something that belonged in a horror movie rather than in your mouth?  If you have an answer to any of these questions, you’ve just unlocked your story gold.

This past summer we ate dinner at Grandma’s house.  She had steamed up a huge pot of fresh, crisp, sweet corn on the cob.  Real butter melted in every crevice, the gritty texture of salt to keep your fingers from slipping off.  We ate in satisfied silence — until my Grandma took a bite. 

There was something in the taste, in the texture, that triggered a memory.  She swallowed and said, “Did I ever tell you about my mom and corn on the cob?”

“No,” we said, our interest piqued.

“When my mom was first married they didn’t have a lot of money.  They were just starting out.  They didn’t have a garden of their own yet either.  Well, my mom was craving fresh vegetables — fresh corn.  But they didn’t have money to buy it.  One night she went to her in-laws’ for dinner and they happened to be serving corn on the cob — a big pot, just like tonight.  

“My mom ate one piece of corn and it just wasn’t enough.  So she took another piece and ate it too.  It still didn’t feel like enough, but two empty corn cobs on your plate look a little suspicious.  Thankfully she was wearing an apron so she discretely removed the two corn cobs from her plate and put them on her lap, under the table.  Now it didn’t look like she’d eaten any corn. 

“She happily took another piece of corn out of the pot, ate it, and while no one was looking, put the corn cob on her lap.  She took another piece — and there was still plenty left, so she ate that piece, put the cob on her lap, and took another.  She just kept on eating.  It wasn’t long before she had a pretty substantial pile of corn cobs on her apron, but no one knew because they were all hidden under the table in her lap.  No one even suspected.  And she would have gotten away with it too, except she got caught up in conversation and forgot the corn cobs were there.   When she stood up, corn cobs skittered across the kitchen floor.  She had some explaining to do.”

Everyone was completely charmed by my corn-concealing great-grandmother.  I don’t know many stories about her, but even if this is the only story I ever hear, I love her!  It’s hard not to love someone like that.  I can relate to her — corn cob cover-up and all.

There are story triggers all over the place: the kitchen table, the grocery store, the family room, the book case, the family camping spot, the dusty shelf of collectibles, I bet you can even find them in the bathroom.  When something reminds you of a story, the trick is to open your mouth and share it. 

If you don’t have a room full of eager ears, take a minute to write it down.  If you don’t like to write, record yourself telling it.  Then remember to share it with your family later.

Your stories, no matter how small and insignificant they may seem, are of great worth to your family.  You are important to your family and that makes your story important to them as well.

More keys to come.