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'This I Believe' Essay | Nicole H. | I Believe That Blueberry Pie Means I Love You
December 07, 2025
The 'This I Believe' essay project invites Northwood Technical College students to reflect on the personal values, lessons, and experiences that shape who they are, putting students first by encouraging authentic self-expression and critical reflection.
Inspired by the 1950s radio program hosted by journalist Edward R. Murrow, 'This I Believe' began as a national platform for people from all walks of life, including presidents, poets, teachers, and truck drivers, to share the beliefs that guided their lives. Decades later, NPR revived the series from 2005 to 2009, reigniting a movement of storytelling that continues to build understanding and respect.
In English Composition 1 courses, students carry forward that tradition by writing their own 'This I Believe' essays. Through this process, they strengthen their voices as writers and thinkers while contributing to Northwood Tech’s mission of transforming communities through education and shared understanding.
By reflecting on what they believe, students engage in meaningful collaboration, learning from themselves, their peers, and their community. This project reflects the college’s values of innovation, community, and student success as each essay helps illuminate the principles and experiences that unite and inspire us all.
Select student essays are featured on the college website with permission from the writer.
I Believe That Blueberry Pie Means I Love You
By Nicole H.
I believe that blueberry pie means I love you. Now, hear me out. I know that is oddly specific, but have you ever had an immaculate piece of blueberry pie? I mean, it doesn’t have to be blueberry pie; it could be cherry pecan scones, brown sugar shortbread, or a perfectly cooked ribeye steak. To be given whatever your heart (or stomach) most desires can absolutely be a declaration of love. It is definitely how my grandma Carol showed hers.
My mom grew up in a family of 16 kids, and money was tight. I mean, really tight. You can imagine how hard it would be to provide for that many people and feed that many mouths. And anything extra? Probably not in the budget. So, how could a parent make a birthday special if there is no money to buy presents? When my mom was younger, her mom would celebrate every birthday with a pizza party. She would make homemade fries, homemade pizza with a thin crispy crust made out of flour, vegetable oil, and milk and topped with tomato sauce, cheese, hamburger chunks, a sprinkle of Italian seasoning, and a side of chocolate malts. That sounds amazing, right? As the years went by, and money was not as tight, my grandma would cook your favorite meal on your birthday. Lasagna, beef stroganoff, and baked ziti are a few I can remember. This was her way of telling each and every one of her kids, ‘I love you,” even if she couldn’t buy them the coolest gift in the world.
Another beautiful legacy my grandma Carol left behind was a monthly breakfast at our church where she would make homemade caramel rolls for anyone in our church who wanted to come down and enjoy them along with coffee, brownies, apple pie squares, chocolate eclairs and whatever else got made for any given month. Her caramel rolls are famous in our parish and there is always a crowd on the third Sunday of each month, we hold a breakfast. Growing up, my mom brought me along for these breakfasts, and I got to learn how to make all these desserts and spend time with my grandma and my mom, and it was such a gift. At the time, I may not have thought it was a gift, as getting up at 5 a.m. to go out in the freezing cold was not my favorite. These days, my kids get to wake up at the crack of dawn to go help their grandma make all those same things as an act of service, and I love that they have this opportunity to give of themselves and build the kind of relationship with their grandma that I had with mine.
My grandma Carol passed away in 2016 after a very short battle with cancer. From the time she was diagnosed until the time she was gone, less than two months passed. As soon as we knew she was sick, her children all came running to spend as much time with her as they could knowing they wouldn’t have that opportunity soon. She was a woman who didn’t enjoy a lot of attention, but she bore it stoically. Despite her suffering, she was able to be a part of one last breakfast in that less-than-two-month span, and it served as a beautiful goodbye for her children and church family while she was still alive. At her funeral, our parish priest shared the story of his first meeting with my grandma. He was a brand-new priest in a new town, meeting a lot of new people. When he met my grandma, she asked him what his favorite kind of pie was, and he answered blueberry with a startled laugh. The next day when he saw her, she had a fresh blueberry pie just for him. It wasn’t just that time, though. She invited him to our family get-togethers and always made sure his favorite pie was there if he was coming. She didn’t just do that for him, though. She did that for everyone. She knew what you loved, and she made it just for you. Everyone had a special connection with her. All 16 of her children. All 60 of her grandchildren. All 43 of her great-grandchildren. How does somebody do that? Show they care for so many people? With blueberry pie.
