Million Dollar Friend

Giving birth is a monumental endeavor, and one that’s not easily forgotten for a multitude of reasons. So is also the case with the circumstances and people that surround us during that pivotal part of our lives. Memories are made and shared and live long after those moments have dissipated into the spectrum of time.

I was thirty-one years old and had just returned home from the hospital with my first child, a baby girl. It was four days after Christmas and when I’d made my way to the hospital, there had been several inches of snow covering the ground.; however, by the time I came home, the weather had warmed to a 65 degrees with barely a trace of snow remaining. Fickle Southern climate.

I thought I was well-prepared for what would ensue following such a joyous occasion. Instead, I found I was ill-prepared for the tired days and inability to do much of anything else but sleep whenever my newborn (finally) did the same. All the organizational skills at which I thought I excelled (and that I listed proudly on my resume) disappeared into thin air. My life turned topsy-turvy, filled instead with nonstop feedings, bottle washings and preparations, diaper duty, laundry, and taking vast blocks of time to simply hold my baby and ardently admire how beautiful a child she was.

With little family in the area, home cooked meals were a thing of the past. My husband and I managed to survive by eating takeout food or sandwiches. Without a doubt, those first few weeks were hectic, extremely tiring, and emotionally charged, and I never knew if I would be crying or laughing at the drop of a hat. I did learn in the months and years to follow, however, that my tears were nearly always derived from the joy of bringing a tiny soul into this world and then watching that little one grow and develop into an amazing being. Still, all in all, no one really prepares you for the onslaught of emotions and all the rules and regulations involved in the process of becoming a parent.

It was about a week after I’d come home that my dearest and oldest friend, Barbara, called. We had been friends since early high school. I remember I was feeling a bit out of sorts the day she called, and I’d already shed a few tears, but Barbara wanted to come for a visit since she had not seen me or the baby since the hospital. I couldn’t very well say ‘no’ – she was my best friend in the whole entire world, and she’d already seen me at my worst more times than I could count. In addition, I was anxious to show off my sweet baby girl, ever sure Barbara would be as amazed as I with how beautifully perfect she was in every way. As a bonus, Barbara said she was bringing dinner, so I didn’t need to worry about cooking anything that day (as if!). My mood lightened after the call. Barbara and I always talked on the phone at least once a day, but seeing each other and interacting like grown adults - and mothers - was going to be a treat to which I was looking forward.

Barbara arrived early that afternoon with her own two year old boy in tow. I distinctly recall that as she walked in the front door, her joy and beaming smile seemed to encompass the entire foyer where we stood. The hug she gave was warm, embodying the full measure of both love and friendship. It was just what my soul needed that day: an encouraging, loving friend to steady my worries and assure me I was doing just fine.

As we moved to the den, Barbara handed me a well wrapped dish that she said was a chicken casserole. In addition, when I cooked it later, I’d find a note where she'd jotted down the baking instructions. The casserole was nothing fancy, but Barbara hoped my husband and I would like it. I assured her we would and placed the wrapped dish in the fridge, already looking forward to the evening meal.

Barbara’s visit lasted a good three hours, through at least two pots of coffee and multiple rocking chair intervals with my sweet girl. Barbara’s little boy, thoroughly bored with our conversation, played with blocks and eventually fell asleep on the sofa next to his mother. Much later, and much to my regret, Barbara left and headed home.

The background noise of the television helped to lull my daughter to sleep as I rocked her, thinking upon what a good visit I'd had with my bestie. Knowing it wouldn’t be much longer, however, before my husband came home, I placed the baby in the basinet and headed to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, I pulled out Barbara’s chicken casserole and unwrapped it. As I did so, an envelope fluttered to the ground, my name was written on the front of it along with a tiny hand drawn, creative little flower and heart. I smiled, Barbara was always so gifted and thoughtful, adding delicate little charms to the simplest of things.

I picked up the envelope and carefully opened it, finding a note written in beautiful, elegant handwriting:

“Dear Cindy, I’ve made you Million Dollar Chicken Casserole, because your friendship is worth a million dollars – and much more - to me.

Love you always, friend.”

I’ll never forget the warmth that filled me as I read that note. It was akin to a huge hug, enveloping me in love, friendship, and much more. Since that time, I have made Million Dollar Chicken Casserole, a rich blend of cheeses and chicken, several times and for many people in my life who have needed a little extra love or reassurance. Just like my sweet friend Barbara, I’ve always written an accompanying note to let that person know just how much they are loved and appreciated.

Several years later, I ended up moving far away and many miles from Barbara. Still, despite the distance and separation, our “million dollar” friendship has endured. Whenever we talk, we pick up right where we left off, as though we’ve never been separated. True friends like this are rare and even harder to find. To this day, when I make Million Dollar Chicken casserole, a smile lights my face for it will forever be the pure essence of happy memories, special moments, and treasured loved ones.

Million Dollar Chicken Casserole

1 cup cooked rice

4 ½ cups cooked or rotisserie chicken, shredded

4 ounces cream cheese, softened

1 cup ricotta cheese

1 cup sour cream

1 can (10.5 ounces) cream of chicken soup

½ teaspoon garlic powder

1 cup shredded Mozzarella or cheese of your choice (I like Colby-Jack)

Chopped onion to suit your taste (I sauté mine in Olive Oil before adding to mixture)

Salt & Pepper to taste

Ritz crackers, crushed, melted butter (for topping)

*

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease 9x13 casserole dish.

In large bowl, mix cream cheese, ricotta cheese, sour cream, cream of chicken soup, shredded cheese, onions, and seasonings until well-combined; add chicken and rice and mix well.

Mix Ritz crackers with melted butter and spread on top of dish

Bake at 350 degrees F for about 40-50 minutes or until bubbly and heated through.

Enjoy!