Being a Chicken

Now, I know what you may be thinking. The picture you clicked on and being a chicken don’t have anything in common. And at face value, that’s true. This picture was taken at the Tuckahoe Street Fair in Bellwood, PA, which is a one day, small-town fair that has existed for thirty years. People of all ages are welcome to attend and purchase little trinkets, such as painted boxes, soap, pumpkins, quilts, raffle tickets, and–perhaps best of all–baked goods.

Some of the most popular goodies that are available at the Street Fair are “The Dingeldein Family Baked Goods”, made by my aunts. One in particular–my Aunt Nancy’s sponge cakes–vanish with the snap of a finger. Many people may not know the history behind those cakes, but I had the privilege of learning it from my grandmother.

The sponge cakes did not originate with my grandma, or even my great-grandma. Those delicious desserts go the entire way back to my great-great-grandmother, who had free-range chickens in her yard. The chickens had the habit of laying eggs all over the lawn, in random places. In order to use the eggs well and not allow them to go to waste, she started to bake sponge cakes, and thus the tradition traveled down the generations to the Street Fair.

To this day, there would be no Dingeldein Sponge Cakes without those chickens. Those chickens are the root of a legacy. The continuation of the tale comes from the choices that my relatives made, but there would be nothing without those chickens. That is what blows my mind.

Begin a legacy. Be somebody’s chicken.

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