How My Mother’s Tough Love Taught Me the Art of Giving
Lessons from My Mother
“There are givers and takers in this life. Be a giver.” My mother didn’t whisper this; she declared it, as she did with most things—assertive, strong, and unyielding in her principles.
Growing up with her, I quickly learned that the art of giving through food was more than a virtue; it was, without a doubt, a duty, woven into everything we did, especially when it came to sharing meals.
She didn’t just tell me to be a good person; rather, she showed me through each dish she carefully crafted and every guest she welcomed with open arms and a seat at our table.
Hainanese Chicken Rice: A Silent Apology
I remember a time we weren’t speaking—a stubborn silence that lingered after an argument. Nevertheless, despite the unspoken tension, she prepared Hainanese chicken rice with her usual care. I watched her as she boiled a whole chicken, chopped large chunks of ginger and garlic, and tossed in scallions, each ingredient chosen with purpose. She let the chicken simmer for hours, the gentle bubbling filling our kitchen with warmth and the scent of her labor.
Sitting at the table, I took a bite, savoring each taste, and felt something unspoken pass between us. It wasn’t an apology, exactly, nor was it a substitute for the words we hadn’t shared. But in that moment, her food served as a form of connection—a way for her to reach out across the silence. For my mother, food was often the medium through which she expressed affection and care, though it never replaced the love or communication that lay beneath it.
While I could have easily accepted this dish as an “apology,” I knew it was more complicated than that. To say that food alone could carry the weight of our relationship would be to reduce it to a quiet, almost mechanical exchange. Instead, this meal represented an offering—a momentary bridge rather than a replacement for spoken words. The chicken rice didn’t erase the tension or replace our need to communicate; it simply reminded me of her presence, her warmth, and her intention.
Learning the Art of Giving Through Food
Over time, I absorbed her way of giving. Eventually, my own meals grew in scale and complexity as I learned to host gatherings, inviting friends, neighbors, and even strangers.
Importantly, I found my joy in creating dishes that brought people together, watching them savor each bite. Just like my mother, I wanted every guest to feel the depth of my love and gratitude. The art of giving through food became my language—a way to show others they were valued and cherished. Every dish I prepared was rooted in the lessons she taught me, from the way she chopped garlic with precision to how she let flavors meld patiently over time.
A Life Shaped by Her Words of Wisdom
Reflecting now, I realize that each meal I make carries her words of wisdom. Indeed, her assertive, grounded voice echoes in my kitchen, reminding me that giving isn’t just something we do; it’s something we live.
Through every meal I prepare, I strive to make her proud—a giver, just as she taught me to be. For me, the art of giving through food is not merely a tradition; it’s a tribute to the lessons my mother instilled in me, lessons that shape how I connect with others to this day.
“There are givers and takers in this life. Be a giver.”
