I just got back from visiting my friends at an assisted living home near me. What fun it was to take them fresh, crisp warm apple tarts that I’d just fried in an iron skillet. They are such lovely folks! I see them each week when I give a very brief devotional on Friday mornings. This being Valentine’s Day, I wanted to do something special. Yesterday as I went about my work, I kept thinking about the verse that God had given me: “.. he who toucheth you toucheth the apple of my eye,” Zechariah2:8. God loves us unconditionally. He loved us before we loved Him! He loves us when we are pesky and ornery and totally unlovable. That’s unconditional love–no matter what!
I love that picture from Zechariah where He says to Israel (and now to us) “…he who toucheth you toucheth the apple of my eye.” I’m the apple of His eye? Wow! It’s one thing to be called a teacher’s pet, or a best friend, a buddy, a SWEETHEART, or to know your grandchildren adore you. But imagine! God, the ruler of the universe, calls you the apple of His eye!
I wanted my friends at Magnolia Place to know they are the Apple of God’s eye. What could I do to make it plain on this particular Happy Hearts Day? That’s when God gave me the idea of making fried apple pies. So I mixed the dough last night and left it chilling in the refrigerator. I bought those very green Granny Smith apples, peeled them and stewed them into nubby applesauce, not totally smooth, sweetened the whole lot with a little brown sugar and cinnamon and left the pot sitting on the back of the stove.
This morning my sweetheart didn’t have to go to work, a very rare treat for us. I cooked up a country breakfast of sausage, yellow grits, fried eggs just the way he likes them, and buttered toast with some of our new mayhaw jelly. We had our devotional as we finished sipping our coffee. Then I went to work frying the pies and I had to hurry. But, thank the Lord, they turned out pretty nice.
My friends were happy with their warm pies and the word from the Lord that they are “..the apple of His eye.” We talked some afterwards about the memories fried pies bring to mind. We decided that in south Georgia they were called apple tarts, whereas my mother called hers fried apple pies. Mamma used to make them for us kids in the mornings on rare occasions. I remember walking on a frosty trail towards our one-room schoolhouse cuddling a fried pie between mittened hands. It felt so good and smelled even better! And what a treasure to keep for a midmorning snack, if it made it that long!
To you, dear friends, I say remember you are the “Apple of His Eye” and consider yourself cherished this Happy Hearts Day!
Pens and Needles 