Every Sunday of my life has revolved around “seven colours”, what we affectionately call Sunday lunch. We not only dress up for church, but we also dress up our plates, and all the colours come out – the yellow of butternut, the purple of beetroot, the orange-red of chakalaka, the green of creamed spinach, the brown of fried chicken and the white of rice. That’s one good-looking plate! The highlight of the day and something to look forward to as we try to stay awake during the two-hour sermon.
When we were children my sister, Mosa, and I would get up at the crack of dawn to get started on that afternoon’s lunch with my mom. My dad, Pastor Seshoene, was always awake before all of us and we would find him seated at the dining-room table, putting the last touches to the sermon he would deliver at Mankweng Baptist Church while we peeled the butternut, chopped the vegetables and kneaded the dombolo before bathing and dressing for church in our Sunday outfits.
My least favourite job was chopping the beetroot, which we had cooked the night before, ready to be peeled, diced and dressed in a generous helping of Mrs Ball’s chutney. I didn’t like how it stained my hands and always tried to get out of doing this job. Mosa and I would bicker about whose turn it was to prep the beetroot, and in a second our dad would come into the kitchen to settle the matter. He would send us to get ready “this instant” and then get to work on the dreaded task himself.
Later, at church, we would notice his purple hands as he spoke from the pulpit. It may not sound like a lot, but to a preteen and teenager worried about how our nails looked, it was a big deal. And that, I think, sums up my dad’s love in a gesture. Small as it was, we so appreciated him sparing us that one chore without even having to ask. He just took care of it. This past year has really taught us all to practise more gratitude and be aware of the little things.
They have come to mean so much more. Like your dad prepping a Sunday lunch salad for you so you don’t stain your hands. Today I remain grateful for all the fathers out there who, like mine, show up in ways both big and small.
Find the recipe for seven colours creamed spinach stuffed butternut here.
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