You may never know the impact you have on others

Cranberry sauce in the works. (Jessica Damiano)

Hi, guys!

🦃 At this time every year, I’m always reminded of the impact we humans have on one another, even from short, simple encounters that may not seem consequential at the time.

As a high school student, I had a part-time job as a cashier at a local supermarket. One Thanksgiving eve, just before closing, an elderly couple placed a few items on my lane’s conveyor belt, sparking a memorable encounter.

I’d never had anything but canned cranberry sauce before, so I was perplexed by their seemingly random assortment of items and asked what they planned to make with a bag of fresh cranberries, a can each of crushed pineapple and mandarin oranges, and walnut halves.

So they shared their family’s recipe for homemade cranberry sauce (simmer the berries with 1 cup each of water and sugar for about 20 minutes until they burst open, then mix in the other ingredients. It couldn’t be simpler or more delicious).

As soon as they left, I ran through the aisles to scoop up those same items and bought them just before the registers closed for the night. When I got home, I told my mother about the recipe and made my first batch to have with Thanksgiving dinner the next day.

That sweet couple probably never gave me a second thought and certainly had no idea their recipe would become a cherished part of my family’s holiday tradition for years — or that I think of them and tell the story of their last-minute shopping trip every year.

I believe that we enter each other’s lives for a reason, whether for a lifetime or just a moment. And we may never know what that reason is or the profound impact we have on others.

It can be a simple smile that turns someone’s bad day around or a kind comment that sticks with them for years. Or a recipe 🙃.

As we approach Thanksgiving, I want to extend my warmest wishes to each of you. May your celebrations be filled with joy and your chance encounters be meaningful and pleasant all year long.

I'm so thankful you're here.

If you read my weekly AP gardening columns or follow me on social media, you’ve likely read my account of how the serviceberry tree got its name. I’m sharing it here for those who haven’t because it’s such an interesting and poignant plant legend.

Throughout most of New England in Colonial America, it snowed a lot, often into spring, and there were no radiators (or antibiotics).

Many settlers didn’t survive the season, but because the ground was frozen solid, the colonists couldn’t bury their dead in real-time. Funerals had to wait until the spring thaw.

But plants don’t follow calendars. They grow on their own schedules, dictated by the weather. The settlers knew this, so they watched one specific tree — Amelanchier — for cues: When it was in bloom, it meant the soil was soft enough to dig graves.

Preachers then went from settlement to settlement to perform funerals, earning the harbinger tree its common name: Serviceberry. Or so the story goes. (Read more…)

🌱 Do you know any folklore about plants? Send me an email, and I’ll include the most interesting in an upcoming issue.

💻 And if you’re on any of these platforms, I’d love to connect with you there. Find me at:

• @jesdamiano on Instagram

• @jessicadamiano on Facebook

• @jesdamiano on Threads