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"The Devil's Food"

Chocolate Cake and Mother's Funeral

By E.L. MartinPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
3
"The Devil's Food"
Photo by Diego Lozano on Unsplash

"That is the devil's food," Mother stated, sneering at a young woman outside of a local coffee shop. I looked at the young woman's plate with envy. I know envy a sin, but at least her mother never deprived her of one of the most supposedly delicious foods in every normal family's culture. A frothed latte sat next to her plate with a slice of chocolate cake. The layered, iced decadence tempted my eyes and made my mouth water despite having no idea what it might taste like. The icing appeared light and fluffy, and appeared to be filled with the devil's own ingredient, cocoa. A coffee or latte was never to touch my lips, but even more adamantly a piece of chocolate cake was never acceptable either. Back in the 1900s the chocolate creation of devil's food cake came into being, and my family had been depriving their children of it ever since. It sounds crazy, and it is. Despite this, I've come to realize many religious families buy into multitudes of delusions.

By Mahdiar Mahmoodi on Unsplash

I knew my mother would backhand me if she knew my true beliefs. As we walked passed the young woman eating decadent cake, I knew I coveted my neighbor's possessions. Yet on the outside, I appeared to be a "normal" Pentecostal girl. My skirt brushed beyond my ankles, my long hair was brushed and rarely cut, and my face was make-up less. Did I have a choice in the matter? Absolutely not. It was necessary to uphold our family's image.

Mother noticed me gawking at the chocolate cake and picked up on my desires. She jerked my arm forward and said, "You can have chocolate cake when I'm dead! While I'm living, you will never partake of the devil's food." My heart broke a bit each time she said things like this. I knew she was just following her moral code and beliefs, but I watched other children enjoy life.

Our religion seemed to promote suffering, but that was "the world's fault" not our Lord and Savior's. I had my own opinions on the matter. Much of our suffering seemed self-induced and self-afflicting. There were things that would have made life better or would have made us happier, and I thought that included the simple indulgence of chocolate cake. Using the word indulgence, however, was probably a sin as well. Moderation was the value that was accepted, but wouldn't a serving size of cake count as moderation, Lord? Would you forgive me or is eating such a thing truly a sin that I need forgiven for?

By Umesh Soni on Unsplash

By reading scripture on my own, I decided not. Maybe I preferred the New Testament to the Old. Maybe I loved the Jesus who ate with sinners and chastised the Pharisees. Maybe I preferred the Jesus who threw over tables in "his father's" tabernacles. Maybe I preferred the Lord who forgave the woman who had intimate relations with several men that were not her husband. Maybe I preferred the Christ who gave a woman rights and trusted her with spreading the news of his rising despite the culture of the time being strictly patriarchal.

It was the same Christ who blessed children as well, and in my youth I felt that he would have done so by allowing them to eat chocolate cake. Maybe he would have done so in a miracle like the two fishes and five loaves of bread he broke. My childlike imagination pretended such anyway. As for miracles, don't even get my family started on the water into wine miracle. "The "wine" only contained enough alcohol to sterilize the germs that made people sick back in those times. It was not truly an alcoholic beverage like modern times." When I came of age and realized it was served at a wedding celebration, I thought that theory was a lie too.

By Olenka Kotyk on Unsplash

I was the "different" child. My views were "twisted", and my mother disdainfully knew it. How would she be rewarded in Heaven if I ever indulged in wine or chocolate cake? What type of child would she be raising? I heard her prayers, "Lord, forgive me. I have tried to bring my daughter up in your ways. You know the truth Lord. I've done my best. Please save our souls and help her come to realize the truth about you. Amen."

It saddened me to know that she truly believed this was her best. Mother was trying in her own way. The strict standards and guidelines may have been tough, but she did love me. This love and imbalanced relationship made me feel restless, and when she passed I didn't quite know what to feel.

It rained the day she died. It seemed that stress had killed her as she died of a heart attack. She had her wishes written, but without the money they were left unfulfilled. My heart ached when I knew the only affordable option I was left to select for her was one our faith detested. We just simply didn't have the money for a funeral or a proper burial. Cremation was all we could afford. There was rarely even a small at home service for a Pentecostal who had been cremated. Mother would have rolled in her grave if she had one. I knew all her "hard work" during her lifetime would have amounted to nothing in her mind to be buried in this manner. She would have thought she was going to hell, and I was the reason. I was supposed to fulfill her wishes regardless of the cost. "The Lord would have provided if only you had the faith." I could hear her say.

By Jason Leung on Unsplash

As for me, the Christ I knew couldn't possibly have held THAT against her. How many martyrs had been burned alive by the Romans, and wasn't it said their loyalty was commendable to him? Surely just because they were turned to ashes didn't mean that their faith had gone unnoticed. Wasn't mammon akin to money, and something for our faith to detest? Why should the lack of finances be a judge of whether you go to heaven or hell? The way I saw it, wasn't a funeral service or such expensive traditions "worldly"? An intimate gathering of condolences with friends and family should have been more than enough in God's eyes. Last I checked "worldly" things were meant to be avoided, and in my opinion things like this were much more concerning for your soul than a slice of chocolate cake.

One of my friends came to my home to offer her condolences. Mother hated that I lived alone as an adult woman. I had no husband to keep me. I worked. I made new connections and friendships she didn't approve. I sometimes wore makeup or clothes that were less conservative. Horrifyingly I even wore pants and cut my hair shoulder length! What a disappointment she had raised, but I was happy with my decisions. We simply had differences of opinions despite our love for each other.

When my friend arrived, she was carrying a brown paper box that appeared to have a bakery logo on it.

By Daily Nouri on Unsplash

"I didn't know what to bring, but I'm sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know." she murmured.

When I opened the box, it contained a large chocolate cake. I covered my mouth in shock and surprise. I felt tears form in my eyes.

"Shall I cut you a slice?" she asked.

"Yes, please." I choked partially from excitement and partially from grief.

I tasted my first bite of chocolate cake, devil's food. My eyes lit up and filled with tears at the same time. The flavor I savored in my first bite was sweet, but also bitter: much like my grief. Tears poured down my face as my friend hugged me and pulled me nearer. I remembered the words, "You can have chocolate cake when I'm dead!" They echoed in my mind as my tears fell harder. I could never go back, and would never go back. This is my life now, and I will live it the best way I can. God rest her soul.

By Ayesha Firdaus on Unsplash

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About the Creator

E.L. Martin

Powered by Nature, Humanity, Humor, Food, Lifestyle, Fiction, and Culture; Oh, and a questionable amount of coffee.

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