By: Jenny Denton
I made pizza one night. It was an ordinary night. There was dough. There was sauce. There was cheese and pepperoni and ham and pineapple and even a few vegetables. Offhandedly I commented that we should have a pizza night every week. Then it was done.
I had good intentions of following through with that offhanded comment, and we had pizza the next Saturday night, but life got in the way the next weekend, and then it was the holidays and we had a houseful of people and commitments and commotion.
I forgot about weekly pizza night.
The first weekend after all the company was home, Hyrum asked if we were having pizza on Saturday "because it's a family tradition." I agreed, and once again, out came the flour and oil and sauce and toppings.
As we knelt in prayer as our family that night, Hyrum thanked Heavenly Father "for our family and for our family traditions." Until that moment, I hadn't realized how important that Saturday night ritual had become to my littlest boy--how this small act unites our family every week. How it shows him that I love him.
You can bet that we've had homemade pizza every week since. In fact, I'm on my way into the kitchen right now to make the dough.
Get the Secret Sauce: Jenny's Fabulous Pizza Recipe
This article was originally published on DentonSanatorium.com. It is shared here with permission.