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Memories of days gone
by
by Camey
In my mind, I have stored wonderful
memories, when I was a little girl, under my mother's wind. From time to time,
I call upon them.
As a child, my mother always made time to play with
me. We would bake together, she had her big cookies sheet, I had
mine.
My mother would roll the dough and cut a piece for me. With my
little rolling pin, I would roll the dough until it was flat like a pancake.
Then I would take the cookie cutters and cut out the cookies. My mother would
grease the cookie sheets and put them into the oven to bake. My mother always
commented on how much better my cookies were then hers.
Another time, I
would take my carriage from my bedroom, at the front of the house and walk to
the kitchen, at the back of the house, where my mother was baking. When she saw
me, she would say, "Hello Mary," then she would ask me, "Would you like a cup of
cocoa and some cookies I just baked?" My eyes would brighten and I would say,
"Yes."
After she put the tea kettle on she would come over to my doll
carriage and look in and say, "What a beautiful baby."
When the kettle
whistled, my mother poured my cocoa and her tea and placed cookies on the
table.
When we finished drinking and eating, I would say, "It's getting
late. I must go home and make my husband's supper," my mother replied, "I have
to start mine too." Then I would take my carriage, say good-bye, and leave,
until another day of play.
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