Evidence of things not seen

Growing up, our family had the tradition of getting together at my grandparents with the extended family each Sunday.

There was afternoon tea, conversations, games in the garden with cousins, fruit to pick from the trees, news about what the other relations were doing. Discussions would be passionate, heated but rarely acrimonious. Then we'd help with setting up and getting dinner served.

Our grandma would heap roast meats, lashings of veg and gravy - that sort of traditional British-fare on our plates until they were overflowing. If you'd object to the amount of this bounty, she would tell you, "It's only light." While I think this was something she believed, the saying has morphed into a sarcastic reprise we still use to this day.

When we arrived, there would be a huge pudding resting on the side bench - rice pudding, bread-and-butter custard, steamed pudding - ready to be dished out with jellies, custard and ice cream.

Occasionally, there would be no dessert sitting out in its usual place. We loved that. A scurry into one of the spare rooms would reveal that, yes, we were right... it was pie night.

Grandma would bake a gazillion different sorts of dessert pies for the twenty or so family members to enjoy. They would be hidden away simply because they could not fit on the side counter.

Apple-crumble pie, apple and rhubarb pie, caramel tart, orange jelly milk pie, custard tart, rhubarb pie, cheesecake, condensed milk lemon tart, lemon meringue pie, peach pie. We all had our favourites, but as unappealing as some of them may sound these days, they were simply delicious.

It was evidence of things unseen that we looked for each week.

Are there things unseen that are done for you? Things that make your life easier or richer. People who do small tasks upstream to help your work to flow along more easily. Or downstream that make what you do look good, be more effective or reach the right people.

Maybe it's time to hunt around for them and say thanks.