In today’s world, having a shot of wheat grass juice or going to yoga class would be considered fairly mainstream. Now picture 40 years ago in small-town, rural Georgia – wheat grass was something you feed the cows.
Yet somehow my mother was ahead of her times—not only did we kids take our daily vitamins, but we grew our own wheat grass which my mom dutifully cut, juiced and served to us. It was bad enough to drink the stuff, but it got worse when I looked outside one day and saw the cat lounging in the wheatgrass tray!
My mother was a natural hygienist which meant she only ate raw fruits and vegetables – no meat, bread or dairy. Furthermore, she only ate the proper food combinations (see chart). Never would we mix a sweet fruit with an acidic one or a starch with a protein. As a child, it felt like torture. It was certainly no prize to be voted “worst lunches” at grade school; my lentil soup looked like mud, while everyone else was eating prepackaged pepperoni pizza.
It was certainly no prize to be voted “worst lunches” at grade school.
But, as an adult, I look back and realize all the knowledge I take for granted about healthy eating. When my friends have an ailment, I always have advice on the natural cure, not because I did any research but because I grew up with an expert. And though I was sure I’d revolt when I was old enough, I find myself a lot like my hippie mom—well, not natural hygiene, but a healthy eater nonetheless.
So, on this Thanksgiving, when we will be feasting on turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, cranberries and pumpkin pies, I raise a glass of wine (or wheat grass, take your pick) to my wonderful mother who taught me so much. Here’s to you, mom, and thank you.
What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?