Bitter Soup: When Auntie Turned Mean

I was eight years old, and I clutched my spoon tightly. We were having lunch, and I was feeling more anxious than excited about our visit to Aunt Tara’s. I had hoped for warmth and a sense of safety. They were family, after all. Usually, I enjoyed visiting them, but on that day, she managed to turn the atmosphere sour, as if premeditated.

Auntie’s voice cut through the air sharply. She just couldn’t hide her disdain for our presence. I didn’t understand if I had done something wrong or why she was behaving that way.

“Coffee’s too expensive nowadays,” she declared, her offer of tea feeling more like a dismissal. Her words felt cold and unwelcoming, they made me shiver. I didn’t feel like hugging her anymore. And we had brought some presents too. I don't know what my parents were thinking, but they always tried to be kind.

The soup, usually a comfort, felt heavy in my stomach as Aunt Tara’s scrutinizing gaze fell upon me. “Not eating properly, are we?” she chided. Her small eyes lingered on my thin frame. I was indeed thin, but I was a healthy child, and always active. Still, she managed to remind me of my inadequacy. Each spoonful of soup turned bitter, one after the other. I didn’t like bread, especially not that white crumbly type.

The soup was a vegetable and homegrown chicken soup, so it should have felt like comfort food. Only I noticed that I got a small portion like the other kids, my cousins. At home, I was eating more soup and I could ask for seconds. "We eat soup with bread so that we feel full faster," Auntie added, in a sharp tone.

I was embarrassed, and my cheeks were on fire. I struggled to hold back tears along with my soup. I wished desperately to escape, to flee from the sharp comments and suffocating judgment. Why was she doing this?

Somehow, someone said something trying to change the topic. Perhaps it was my uncle who had entered and joined us for lunch. Laughter bubbled up miraculously. It felt feeble, an attempt to smooth over Auntie’s harsh words, but it didn't erase the feelings I had felt during the visit.

As we said our goodbyes and stepped out into the cool evening air, I could feel the bitterness of that visit still in my tastebuds from that damned soup.

My Takeaway:

That day, I learned a lesson that remained with me forever: the importance of kindness and making others feel welcome and loved.

When we experience rudeness from others, we’re reminded of the value of kindness and warmth. Please try to be kind to others because kindness moves mountains.

Let’s teach our kids the value of being kind to others so that the world becomes a better place. After all, each act of love, no matter how small, counts, as long as many of us continue to spread the good vibes.

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Here is the Nonfiction May Prompts on Simple Story Seekers. I chose the following one:

Tell about a time when a close friend or family member disappointed you, because you had different expectations from the relationship.

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***I originally published this story on Medium***

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