A couple of years ago, after a somewhat trying day at work, I pulled into my drive way and reached for the groceries in the back seat. When I turned to get out of the car, my children bolted out of the house shouting "Daddy's home, Daddy's home." Seeing the joy on their faces me forget all about my troubles at work. It energized me. I walked into the house and yelled "Daddy's home and he's going to cook."

"Thank you," my wife said as she walked into the living room for some well deserved snooze time on the sofa.

"What are you cooking?" my oldest daughter asked.

"Good food, my friend, good food," I opened the door of the refrigerator and grabbed the brussels sprouts.

"Daddy, you say that every time and it's always just stinky old vegetables and cow meat."

"Spoilsport!" I mumbled to myself. I dumped all of the brussels sprouts into a strainer. After washing the brussels sprouts I retrieved some bacon and one large onion from the fridge. In a matter of minutes I had carved up the bacon and onion and shoveled them into a frying pan. As I waited for the water in the steamer to boil, I placed some baking potatoes into the oven and prepared the mushrooms. One hour later I was finished. A veritable feast comprised of steak, twice baked potatoes and brussels sprouts mixed with onion and bacon bits, adorned the dining room table.

"Supper's ready," I yelled. My family stampeded into the dining room. To my surprise, there was one more mouth to feed. Johnny, my son's best friend, had some how appeared out of thin air. "Are you eating with us tonight?" I asked.

"What are you having?" He asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes, and brussels sprouts," I said.

"Brussels what?" Johny said.

"Brussels sprouts," my son quickly said. "And they suck," he added for good measure.

"I'll try them," Johnny said as he sat down. "Besides, we're having fish at my house and I hate that stuff.

"Good for you Johnny," I said. "I like your attitude." I passed out the food and dished out two brussels sprouts onto our brave guest's plate. Everyone watched as Johnny ate the first brussels sprout. At first, he didn't react, but when he did, it was dramatic.

"Water, water," he garbled. I grabbed the picture of water and filled up his cup. He didn't wait for the cup to be filled. In one desperate movement he swept up the cup and guzzled down the water."

"I told you they sucked," my son repeated.

"Well... I'm not saying that they sucked,"Johnny politely said, "I just found the taste different. Do you have any ketchup Mr. Schilke?"

"Sure do," I opened the fridge door and reached for the ketchup. "It's only half full, I hope that will do for your purposes."

"Hopefully," Johnny said as he opened the bottle. With a firm pat to the backside of the ketchup bottle, Johnny emptied all of the ketchup on to the one lonely brussels sprout.

"Holy big bad momma," my son exclaimed. "You can't even see the brussels sprout anymore."

"I know," Johnny said. "And that's just the way I like it. Five minutes later Johnny's plate was clean. He got out of his chair and took the plate to the sink to be washed.

"Did you even taste the brussels sprout?" I asked.

"Sure I did Mr. Schilke, but the ketchup tasted so good I forgot all about the brussels sprout. Johnny returned to his seat and readied himself for dessert. I brought out the chocolate cake and Johnny smiled. "Do you have any ketchup?" He said. Everyone laughed as I heaped a succulent piece of cake into Johnny's bowl.

I look back on the night and it still makes me smile. How could ketchup make such a difference to a kid? I'm still not quite sure, but I do know that for Johnny, the only way brussel sprouts could be made palatable was through the extensive use of copious amounts of ketchup. As trite and simple as the events of that night may seem, I believe that there is a lesson hidden in all that ketchup.

We all have moments in our life that are not palatable. Things, as my son would say, that suck. Johnny's answer was ketchup. That simple addition made everything okay. So, I ask, what is your ketchup? What or who enables you to make it through a tough situation and gives you the strength to find hope in the hopeless. I

If you are lucky enough to have a stash of ketchup, be thankful, for there are plenty of folks who don't. Imagine the results if all of us, at some moment in the day, could be a little ketchup for that person who is staring at their own brussels sprout. It may just be what that person needs, to help them clean off their plate and enjoy a little dessert . So please, keep your eyes open and "Pass the Ketchup."