Potatoes and Prayer: A Table of Thanks in Plainview
My grandparents, Lucile and Robert Rhoads weren’t just figures from family lore—they were anchors in my life. Their quiet strength, their faith, and the way they turned hardship into grace left a mark on me that I’m only beginning to fully appreciate.
Writing about them feels like placing a stone in the foundation of this blog experience. Empathy on the Rocks isn’t just about clever cocktails and heartfelt musings—it’s about honoring the people who taught me what empathy really looks like. And in the middle of the Great Depression, with frozen potatoes and rationed milk, they showed me that love, gratitude, and resilience can turn even the bleakest winter into a season of warmth.
Here goes…
Lucile and Robert Rhoads embodied resilience and unwavering faith as they weathered the harshness of the Great Depression on their farm outside Plainview, Illinois. Despite the scarcity of resources and the challenges of raising their two young sons, Samuel and Robert, they found strength not in what they lacked but in the abundance of their love, resourcefulness, and gratitude.
In the bitter chill of January, with little more than milk from a ration-fed cow and potatoes preserved from the summer harvest, they crafted sustenance from simplicity. Meat was a rare indulgence, and coffee, an occasional luxury, was savored rather than consumed mindlessly.
Grandpa Rhoads embraced his role as a mail carrier—a job not just fortunate but essential, a symbol of dignity and purpose amidst widespread despair throughout our country. Grandma, on the other hand, tended to the home with tireless dedication, nurturing her children and weaving warmth into their lives through acts of care as simple yet profound as sewing, tending to the house, and innovating ways to elevate humble meals. Her resilience was fortified by her faith, which was strengthened through her active participation at the Plainview Baptist Church.
When the potatoes stored in the root cellar froze and turned dark and mushy, Grandma faced a moment of despair. Yet, in what could have been an overwhelming loss, Grandpa's steady wisdom illuminated the path forward. He saw not defeat in the ruined potatoes but opportunity with the parts that could be salvaged—transforming potential waste into nourishment.
Together, they embraced this moment, turning adversity into a quiet triumph. The children would be given the inner section of the potatoes that had not frozen, and Grandpa and Grandma would eat the rest.
That evening, the Rhoads family gathered around the table, united not by plenty but by gratitude. Grandpa led them in prayer, his words rising as a testament to their enduring spirit. He gave thanks—not merely for the meager meal before them but for the family that shared it, for the warmth of their home, and for the intangible blessings that sustained them.
Reflection
This story isn’t just about a meal—it’s a reminder that even in life’s leanest seasons, there’s something sacred about showing up, sitting down, and sharing what little we have. In Plainview, gratitude wasn’t a grand gesture—it was a bowl of potatoes, a whispered prayer, and the quiet strength of people who chose love over lack.
That’s the heartbeat of Empathy on the Rocks: finding light in the shadows, humor in the hardship, and grace in the grit. It’s about the kind of empathy that doesn’t flinch when life gets messy, but pulls up a chair anyway. The kind that says, “You’re not alone,” even when the world feels like it’s spinning off its axis.
This story reminds us to persevere through the chaos, to seek hope even when it feels buried under bills and broken plans, and to cherish the small, stubborn blessings that keep us grounded. Whether it’s a shared laugh, a passed-down recipe, or a prayer spoken over potatoes, these moments matter. They bind us together. They carry us through.
So here’s to the tables that hold more than food. To the people who show up with open hearts and mismatched chairs. And to the kind of empathy that’s served straight up—with a twist of gratitude and a dash of grace.
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