Today is National Doughnut Day. I'd never heard of it or at least never remembered it or given it another thought until today when I learned that it was declared in honor of the Salvation Army women who served doughnuts to American soldiers overseas during World War I. For confirmation of that, you can read Time's article (by far the most entertaining I've read today, although I have to say that I like 4 of the 5 doughnuts they hate and 2 are my absolute favorites!).
But it stuck with me today because last November I discovered from my grandfather that he had been one of the many American soldiers in Germany who went up to Nuremberg during the trial in the days after World War II. He didn't go to listen to the testimony, to hear the stories, to witness the end of the war. No. He and his companions went to bolster their spirits. They went because the Red Cross was serving doughnuts.
Now I don't recommend emotional eating, but I have absolutely come to see its power. As my in-laws and I sat together those many nights after my little one's seizures, we didn't just give thanks for the life of that sweet little child. We chowed down on fried chicken in relief and emotional exhaustion.
Nothing says, "I love you," like the right food. It can be cake saved for you from a party you couldn't attend, a small snack put together by your secretary who knew you didn't have a chance for lunch, microwave popcorn from a coworker who knows you usually buy it out of the vending machine, those cookies waiting for you as you tumbled off the bus.
Doughnut Day is not so much about doughnuts but more about those who spend their time showing their love for others in a concrete (albeit fattening) way.
And for that I say, "Thank you."