Making a birthday wish come true

As our niece’s sixth birthday was approaching, she put together a list of wishes for her special day.

She wanted to have her birthday party at her grandparents’ house. She requested hot dogs and macaroni and cheese. Dessert would be a chocolate bunny cake. It sounded like the perfect celebration.

A few days before the big day, my sister—the birthday girl’s mom—invited us to join them. She happened to mention that her daughter was hoping to have “Aunt Rita’s Dip” that day, too.

“That’s not why I’m inviting you to the party,” Treasa said. And we laughed.

I loved that our niece was hoping for something I make. I told Treasa that I would prepare the dip and bring it in time for dinner.

The birthday arrived, and it was 100-something degrees. I’m not sure anyone would have been craving this particular dish, a cheesy broccoli dip that is served hot out of the oven. But I certainly wasn’t going to disappoint the birthday girl.

A little while before the party started, she checked in on the progress in the kitchen. The bunny cake was decorated, and the water was boiling for the hot dogs and macaroni. But she noticed something was missing.

“Grandma,” she said to my mother, who was getting everything else ready, “you haven’t made everything on the list.”

“It says ‘Aunt Rita’s Dip,’” my mother said, pointing to the list. “Who do you think will make Aunt Rita’s Dip?”

There was only one answer.

Not long after that, I arrived with a full tray of the dip and placed it in the center of the table. The birthday girl and her siblings swarmed the table and dove in to scoop up the dip with chips. I’ve made this dip so many, many times, and I’ve never seen it disappear so quickly before.

The party was a marvelous success—and not because of the dip. As my mother always reminds me—before cooking enough to feed several armies—it’s not about the food; it’s about the people.

But the birthday girl’s very specific request—and her delight that it happened—has been reminding me that we each bring something distinctive to every situation. Every guest has an impact on a party. Every voice has a role in a discussion. Every smile, every gesture, every form of outreach can build connection and foster love. We each have a part to play.

This week we mark the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul. St. Peter and St. Paul helped shape the Church in such distinct, extraordinary ways. They lived their lives for God, for Jesus, fully and completely, but not identically.

Today, as we try to walk a path of holiness, we have the beautiful challenge of considering what exactly we are asked to bring. What is it that we can contribute to the world that is a gift only we can offer? What might God be asking of us that is as unique a gift as he wanted from St. Peter or St. Paul?

Whatever is asked of us, may we see it not as an obligation but an invitation—a chance to be our best and truest selves, leaving our mark in a way that makes the world just a little brighter, a little more loving, and a little more peaceful.

Whatever our specialty is, there is room on the table for what we have to offer. And what a party it could be.

If you’re interested, here’s a link to the dip recipe.

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