Response: "My Mother's Blue Bowl" by Alice Walker

I usually think of love and comfort when I think of food. When I was a little girl running around with pigtails, my mom would sit at the dining table with all the different types of food she had cooked and she would feed my siblings and I. We would run around the table and take turns eating from the spoon that kept zooming into our wide open mouths like we were eagles soaring down to catch our prey. We would dance around the dining table like we were doing a cultural ritual dance and we would yelp and growl in satisfaction. My mom never told us to stop goofing around though. She'd just smile and keep spooning food into our mouths.

Things are different now. We eat ramen noodles and Tyson chicken hot wings. When we are hungry but too lazy to cook, we order pizza or go out to eat at restaurants or buffets. Once in a while, my mom would cook for us and at those moments I would be reminded of her love for us which still burns moderately even though she is usually gone from home.

The blue bowl in this excerpt symbolizes a love that never ends or gets weaker in time. "The blue bowl stood there, seemingly full forever, no matter how deeply or rapaciously we dipped, as if it had no bottom."