Then, at last, I found a dish their mama didn't make one both the kids liked banana pudding. They helped me in the kitchen. Chuck beat the egg whites for the topping while Cheryl carefully lined the pan with vanilla wafers. I cut up the bananas and prepared the filling. They both licked the bowl. We all had fun. It was a time of sharing and laughter.

Later, making banana pudding became a cherished family tradition.

On the last night before they were to return home, we had arranged a family get-together. When the doorbell rang, Cheryl scampered to answer. My sister-in-law Carol stood framed in the doorway with a large bowl clutched in her hands. What's that? Cheryl immediately wanted to know.

It's banana pudding, Carol offered proudly.

Cheryl took a closer look, then shook her head from side to side and said, Karen doesn't make it that way.

I dissolved in laughter that no one else understood. Suddenly, my tension and anxiety disappeared, and I knew that when those kids got back home, their mother would be hearing a lot about how Karen doesn't do it that way. She had my sympathy and respect.

It seemed their mom and I had more in common than I thought, we both used one important ingredient in our cooking, the most active one love.