The Sweet Moments

Life has a way of handing us bittersweet moments, doesn’t it? Some memories are etched so deeply that they linger, not because they were extravagant, but because they carried a sweetness that stood out from the chaos. For me, white powdered donuts from Mrs. Baird’s hold that kind of meaning.

The fun family memories I have with my birth mother are few and far between, but there’s one that rises to the surface whenever I see that little white package. Growing up, life was hard. Homelessness, abuse, poverty, instability, and survival mode left little room for joy and peace. But I remember one moment so vividly sitting in the old brown car, that we lived in at the time, in a truck stop parking lot after showering, my mother had her hands behind her back and a smile on her face. After opening the door she revealed a small bag of white powdered donuts.

She didn’t have much money, and I knew better than to ask for anything. Our tummies were certainly grumbling but to say anything would make my mother feel bad so we didn’t complain. Sometimes we would grab leftover food that would be discarded by the wait staff in the diner. But not that day, there she was, smiling as she handed them to my brother and me. That smile was rare, and in that moment, I felt like we’d been given the world. The package was perfectly lined with six donuts, a luxury for us. I ate each one slowly, closing my eyes with every bite, savoring it as though it were life itself.

Now, decades later, my amazing husband has learned the weight of that memory. For the past 17 years, whenever life feels heavy or a holiday looms near, he’ll sneak a bag of those same white powdered donuts into my view. He knows they make me smile. He knows they remind me of one of the few untainted, sweet memories of my childhood.

Holidays are hard for me. They always have been. But as I create new traditions with my own little family, I’ve realized that healing is often found in the smallest acts of love. My husband’s gesture isn’t about the donuts; it’s about encouraging me to remember the sweetness even when it feels like it’s buried in bitterness.

That bag of donuts doesn’t just represent a moment from my past; it’s a bridge to my present. It’s a reminder that, no matter how dark the past may seem, there are always glimpses of light worth carrying forward. And as I savor those moments, just like I did with each powdered donut, I’m learning to make the holidays my own, full of gratitude and sweetness for the family I now have, cherish, and love.

Because sometimes, the smallest acts of kindness and the simplest memories are the ones that stick. And when they resurface, they remind us how far we’ve come and how much sweetness life still has to offer.