My twelve-year-old son came home soaked after giving away his late father\u2019s umbrella to a pregnant stranger in the rain. I wanted to be angry until the next morning, when our lawn was covered with forty-seven umbrellas and boxes that turned his quiet kindness into something much bigger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My twelve-year-old son gave away the last thing his father, Darren, ever bought him, and three mornings later, forty-seven open umbrellas were planted across our lawn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It started last week, when Eli came home soaked through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I opened the front door with a dish towel over one shoulder, already annoyed because the pharmacy had called again about a prescription they still had under my late husband\u2019s name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I saw my son.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It started last week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rain dripped from his hair. His shirt clung to his chest, and his lips were trembling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli,\u201d I said, pulling him inside. \u201cWhere\u2019s your umbrella, baby?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at me, and my stomach tightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hoped it was not the blue one. Please, not the blue one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s gone, Mom,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The blue umbrella wasn\u2019t expensive. It had a wooden handle, a silver button that stuck, and Darren\u2019s slanted handwriting inside the strap because Eli used to lose everything when he was little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s your umbrella, baby?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he never lost that umbrella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Darren had bought it two months before his illness took him. Since then, Eli carried it everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you mean, gone?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli swallowed. \u201cSorry, Mom. I gave it to someone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou gave it away? What about\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His chin dipped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a second, I wasn\u2019t proud. I wasn\u2019t gentle. I was a tired widow staring at another empty space where my husband used to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSorry, Mom. I gave it to someone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli, that was from your dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why would you give it away?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere was a lady at the bus stop,\u201d he said quickly. \u201cShe was pregnant, Mom. Really pregnant. She was crying, and her coat was soaked, and nobody was helping her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo you gave her your jacket too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli, that was from your dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked down at his wet shirt. \u201cShe was cold, too. And she had to worry about herself and the baby. If I got sick, you\u2019d make me soup, and I\u2019d be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pressed my fingers to my mouth. How could I be mad?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t want to lose it,\u201d he said. \u201cI promise. But Dad always said you don\u2019t wait to help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words knocked the anger out of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Darren had said that all the time. When a neighbor\u2019s car wouldn\u2019t start. When someone dropped groceries. Even when we were late.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How could I be mad?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t wait to help someone in need, Carina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pulled Eli into my arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour dad would be proud of you,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He held still. \u201cAre you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That nearly broke me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m proud of you too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour dad would be proud of you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I got him into dry clothes and made hot cocoa with too many marshmallows. He sat at the kitchen table, both hands around the mug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you think she\u2019ll bring it back?\u201d he asked. \u201cI told her where we live.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know, hon. But maybe she\u2019ll surprise us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe,\u201d he said softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later, after he went to bed, I touched the empty hook by the door. It had held Darren\u2019s keys, his cap, his coat, and, after he died, Eli\u2019s umbrella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know you\u2019d be proud of him,\u201d I whispered. \u201cBut I still wanted that umbrella to come home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe she\u2019ll surprise us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three mornings later, I opened the door to grab the newspaper and dropped my coffee mug. It shattered on the porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hot coffee splashed my ankle, but I barely felt it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I only saw my lawn, covered in open umbrellas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Forty-seven of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They stood in perfect rows from the mailbox to the maple tree. Under each umbrella sat a small white box with a number painted on the lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Numbered 1 to 47.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hot coffee splashed my ankle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom?\u201d Eli called behind me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stepped onto the porch, barefoot, hair sticking up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWatch!\u201d I warned. \u201cI dropped my mug. Don\u2019t step on the glass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy is Mrs. Sarah filming us, Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That snapped me awake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Neighbors had gathered on the sidewalk, several with phones raised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t step on the glass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSarah!\u201d I called. \u201cPut the phone down! You know I don\u2019t like Eli being filmed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She lowered it halfway. \u201cCarina, it\u2019s beautiful! Didn\u2019t you see Facebook?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stomach turned. \u201cWhat\u2019s on Facebook?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A man from two houses down shouted, \u201cCarina, Eli\u2019s famous!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My son moved behind me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stepped in front of him completely. \u201cEverybody put your phones down. Now! He\u2019s a child.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few people looked embarrassed. A few lowered their phones slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s on Facebook?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked onto the wet grass, robe dragging at my ankles. Eli stayed close beside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first umbrella was dark blue. The box beneath it had a tag tied to the lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor Eli.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStay back, bud,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom, it has my name on it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. But we don\u2019t know who put it here. So I\u2019m going to open it first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I knelt and lifted the lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I screamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first umbrella was dark blue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside was a tight bundle wrapped in blue fabric.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For one awful second, it looked strange and wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I saw the wooden handle, the silver button, and Eli\u2019s name in my husband\u2019s handwriting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli dropped beside me. \u201cThat\u2019s Dad\u2019s,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow did it get here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at the boxes, then at the neighbors. His face went pale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom, we need to call someone. Maybe the police. This is scary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow did it get here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. We\u2019re not touching anything else until I know who did this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWait! There\u2019s a note,\u201d Eli said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked down. There was a folded piece of paper tucked under the umbrella strap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRead it,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My hands shook as I opened it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I promised I would return this. I didn\u2019t know it would come home with a crowd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thank you for covering me when I felt invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a note,\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s the lady,\u201d Eli said. \u201cShe said her name was Jenelle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before I could answer, a silver car pulled up. A pregnant woman stepped out slowly, one hand under her belly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s her, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked toward her with Darren\u2019s umbrella pressed to my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you Jenelle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She nodded. \u201cCarina, I\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stomach tightened. \u201cHow do you know my name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s her, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSomeone commented it under my post on Facebook. They said they were a neighbor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I glanced back at Sarah, who suddenly found the sidewalk very interesting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I faced Jenelle again. \u201cYou wrote about my son?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her face fell. \u201cI wrote a thank-you post.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. My son is twelve,\u201d I said. \u201cHe gave you something that mattered to both of us. Now people are filming him like this is entertainment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t share your address,\u201d Jenelle said quickly. \u201cI swear. I used his first name only. No school. No street.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou wrote about my son?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen how did they find us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe Route 47 bus stop,\u201d she said. \u201cI mentioned it in the post. Mr. Collins recognized Eli and offered to return the umbrella. I didn\u2019t know about the boxes until this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo you started it, and strangers finished it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she said softly. \u201cAnd I should have thought harder before I started.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli stepped out from behind me. \u201cIs your baby okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle\u2019s eyes filled. \u201cYes, sweetheart. She\u2019s okay. I\u2019d just had an ultrasound, and the doctor told me to watch her movements closely. It scared me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI gave him the umbrella to return.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded. \u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I swallowed hard, then looked back at her. \u201cKindness doesn\u2019t mean people get to walk into our lives without knocking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. Your son told me that the umbrella was from his dad. It struck something with me, Carina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, you don\u2019t. Eli still sleeps with Darren\u2019s sweatshirt when there\u2019s thunder. That umbrella wasn\u2019t a prop.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle wiped her cheek. \u201cYou\u2019re right. I\u2019m sorry, Eli. I\u2019m sorry, Carina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I swallowed hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A teenage boy lifted his phone again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle turned sharply. \u201cStop filming this family. This is their home, not a stage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time, everyone listened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the sidewalk cleared, I turned to Eli. \u201cWe\u2019re taking all of this inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan we open some first?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, Eli.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPlease, Mom. Maybe some people really just wanted to be kind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey scared us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is their home, not a stage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. I don\u2019t like it either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli, they turned your dad\u2019s umbrella into a town project.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli looked at the blue umbrella tucked under my arm. \u201cMaybe Dad would\u2019ve liked that part.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wanted to argue, but the words wouldn\u2019t come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli shook his head. \u201cNo. I want to see why people came.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him. \u201cA few boxes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He gave me a tiny smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI want to see why people came.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Box #2 held a note from Mr. Collins, Eli\u2019s bus driver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCarina,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody gave out your address. I need you to know that first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
People brought umbrellas and notes to the Route 47 stop after Jenelle\u2019s post went around. Some left envelopes at the bus depot or gave them to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I should have called before bringing them here. I thought I was doing something beautiful for a boy I care about. I see now I should have knocked first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked up from the note.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI need you to know that first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMr. Collins did this?\u201d Eli asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle blinked. \u201cI didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I believed her that time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A familiar voice came from the sidewalk. \u201cI owe you an apology, Carina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Collins stood near the mailbox in his rain jacket, cap twisted in both hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli straightened. \u201cMr. Collins?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The older man looked at him softly. \u201cMorning, kiddo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I believed her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I held up the note. \u201cYou put all this here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, ma\u2019am. Two church volunteers and I. Before sunrise.\u201d He glanced at the umbrellas. \u201cI didn\u2019t give anyone your address. I brought them myself because I drive Eli home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why not call me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He swallowed. \u201cI came by last night, but your lights were out. Then I got carried away. People kept saying, \u2018That boy deserves to know.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Eli said, \u201cYou still could have knocked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou put all this here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Collins nodded. \u201cYou\u2019re right. I should have.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Box #3 smelled like sugar. Inside was a gift card from the ice cream shop near the library.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor the boy who remembered kindness. One sundae a month. Sprinkles included.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli blinked. \u201cDo you think they mean any sundae?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEli.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m asking\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite myself, I laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right. I should have.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Box #4 held a shoe store voucher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor the kid who walked home soaked so someone else didn\u2019t have to. Pick out waterproof sneakers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe red ones with lightning?\u201d Eli asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou already know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve known for months.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I glanced at Mr. Collins. \u201cYou know a lot about my son?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know he thanks me every afternoon,\u201d he said. \u201cI know he lets the little kids get off first. Last winter, when another boy forgot gloves, Eli gave him one of his.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou already know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli flushed. \u201cIt was only one glove.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s exactly my point,\u201d Mr. Collins said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Box #5 held a skatepark pass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli\u2019s smile faded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I touched his shoulder. \u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDad said he\u2019d teach me how to skate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI remember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI still want to go,\u201d Eli said. \u201cBut not the big ramp.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDad said he\u2019d teach me how to skate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Box #6 held four dollars and thirty-eight cents from a seven-year-old named Maddie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli stared at the coins. \u201cMom, we can\u2019t keep this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cSo what do we do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked toward the Route 47 stop. \u201cWe share it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I followed his gaze to the bus shelter at the corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli turned Maddie\u2019s coins over in his palm. \u201cIf people brought all this because one person didn\u2019t have an umbrella, maybe we make sure the next person does.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom, we can\u2019t keep this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at Jenelle. \u201cYou don\u2019t get to write the ending alone this time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cI don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Collins cleared his throat. \u201cThe depot has an old rack we could clean up. Nothing fancy, but sturdy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe school has lost-and-found umbrellas,\u201d Eli said. \u201cAnd people could leave ponchos. Maybe bus cards too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat would you call it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli looked at the number painted on Box #47.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe Route 47 Rain Rack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Collins smiled. \u201cThat has a ring to it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe Route 47 Rain Rack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli touched Darren\u2019s umbrella gently. \u201cCan the tag say, \u2018Started with Darren\u2019s umbrella\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My throat closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cBut this umbrella comes home with us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli nodded. \u201cI know. Dad\u2019s stays with us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle looked at me carefully. \u201cMay I write a follow-up? With your permission this time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI have rules.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She pulled out her notebook. \u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo last names. No address. No close-ups of Eli\u2019s face. No making Darren\u2019s death the headline. And don\u2019t call my son a hero like he doesn\u2019t still leave cereal bowls in the sink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDad\u2019s stays with us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jenelle wrote every rule down. \u201cI promise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A week later, the transit office approved the rack beside the bus shelter. Mr. Collins painted it blue. The school stocked it with umbrellas, ponchos, gloves, and prepaid bus passes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The brass tag on the front read:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe Route 47 Rain Rack<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Started with Darren\u2019s umbrella.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eli clipped a brand-new blue umbrella onto the rack. Then he tucked Darren\u2019s old one under his arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou sure?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He touched the new umbrella. \u201cThis one\u2019s for sharing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI promise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he looked down at the one his father had given him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd this one\u2019s for remembering.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I put my arm around his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For two years, I thought Darren\u2019s last gift had to be protected from the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Darren\u2019s last gift had walked through our front door soaking wet, shivering, and twelve years old.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And somehow, my boy had carried it farther than either of us ever could.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My twelve-year-old son came home soaked after giving away his late father\u2019s umbrella to a pregnant stranger in the rain. I wanted to be angry until the next morning, when our lawn was covered with forty-seven umbrellas and boxes that turned his quiet kindness into something much bigger. My twelve-year-old son gave away the last … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":16987,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-16986","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16986","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16986"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16986\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16988,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16986\/revisions\/16988"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16987"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16986"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16986"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yum.familyfreshrecipes.com\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16986"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}