Terrorist Brownies

Terrorist Brownies

From Chicken Soup for the Military Wife's Soul

Terrorist Brownies

To love what you do and feel that it matters— how could anything be more fun?

Katharine Graham

My husband and I lived in Twentynine Palms, California, until he received orders for an unaccompanied year tour in Okinawa. Housing approved our request to remain, so we stayed in Twentynine Palms while he was away.

I decided to start my own little business of cake-and-goodie baking. I had several connections online through marine support groups, and soon I was baking and delivering cakes to marines stationed here. Shortly after 9/11, I received a call from a mom whose stepson was really stationed at Camp Lejeune in temperate North Carolina, but was out here in the hot desert taking part in a combined-arms exercise. She explained that it was his birthday soon, he loved brownies, and she wanted to do something very special for him. Was there any way I could find him and deliver a birthday treat of brownies to him? she wondered. I said I would try.

After calling several people and being transferred from one office to another, I was finally patched into a field phone and was able to get a message to the marine that he should call me about a birthday surprise. Later that night, he called me and of course was extremely suspicious. He asked me his mother’s name, which I of course had to look up. After a mini-interrogation, he agreed to meet at the bowling alley when he had liberty the next day. His mother was unable to reach me that day, so I just went ahead and delivered the brownies, milk, napkins and a homemade card that said, “Love, Mom,” to the bowling alley. He had not been able to make it, but his sergeant assured me the marine would get the brownies. Mission accomplished—only better than I had ever imagined.

The next day, I received a phone call from his mother. It seemed this marine finally got his brownies and called his mother at two in the morning. He asked her if she had sent him brownies. She said no, since she was half-asleep. At this point, her son began yelling, “There’s been a freaking act of terrorism! You’re not going to believe this, but someone sent me poison brownies saying they were from you. And I almost ate them!” He was in an absolute panic.

Then it dawned on her. “Wait, wait,” she said, “Are they from an Amie Clark? I was half-asleep when you asked me. I did ask her to find you if she could, but didn’t get back to her and had no idea that she found you and delivered the brownies!” They talked for a while longer. He was amazed that she had found him out there.

She later explained to me that their relationship had always been strained, to the point where, if she walked into a room, he would walk out. She had tried several times to reach out to him, but nothing had worked. She told me that the brownies finally opened a door for them. Her gesture made him realize that she loved him, not because she had to but because she wanted to. He now calls the house to talk to her and they sometimes talk for over an hour. The effort she made to send him a birthday treat touched more than his stomach; it touched his soul.

Amie Clark

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