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Momma, Can We Walk A Little Faster?
It was only a short cross town journey, but Chelsea was only six and her little legs would easily stress under normal conditions let alone such a walk as this. "Momma, can we walk a little faster?" she begged. "What's the hurry?" Momma replied. "Today is cookie day!" she said with much enthusiasm. "Grandma needs me!" "What do you mean Grandma needs you?" asked Momma. "Who is gonna eat all those cookies?" she said. Momma smiled as she remembered growing up in Grandma's house. "Yes, yes it is cookie day," she said. "I think I can smell chocolate chips already." Chelsea stopped. Then raising her head up and standing tip-toed she took a deep breath. "Momma, can we walk a little faster?" she said again. "I think I can smell peanut butter, too!" Now I don't know about you, but I think I'd be running to Grandma's house. I can clearly remember how great my Mother's cookies tasted. I don't remember when all the rules changed, but I always got to lick the beaters back then. I can't for the life of me remember being worried about raw eggs or other concerns we have today. Back then I had enough cake batter and raw cookie dough to satisfy my young boy appetite. As they approached the house Chelsea suddenly bolted up the steps struggling to get the door open. "We must knock, Chelsea!" Momma shouted. "It's not polite to just barge in like that." "Okay," she said then began knocking so fast the cold glass in the door rattled. The door opened and in she flew, dropping her hat, gloves and scarf along the way. "Mother, I'm sorry. I know she knows better." her Momma said. Grandma just smiled and added, "Just like you did." They both laughed. The house was filled with the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. The still hot oven offered the extra warmth they both needed from the winter chill. As Grandma and Momma walked into the kitchen, they discovered young Chelsea seated at the table eagerly waiting. "Young lady? What will it be, milk or hot cocoa?" Grandma asked. "Cookies!" Chelsea replied. "Okay, but you will need something to drink. I suggest milk." Momma said. "And two of each cookie," Chelsea added. The three ladies sat quietly around the table for some time. The youngest was there for the cookies. The oldest was there for the love. The kind of love you can't buy in a package or a fast food restaurant. And Chelsea's Momma? She was there to relive her own childhood, stir up some memories and make new ones. For one day, with God's blessing, Momma will be a Grandma, too. These are the things of life we so often take for granted. They occur and often go unnoticed until one day, much too late, they are gone. Sit for a moment right now and remember. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Can you smell the memories? If it wasn't cookies, maybe pie. If it wasn't pie then maybe mom's meatloaf or dad's stew. Whatever captures your heart is a memory in the making. Never pass up a chance to make memories. They are bound to warm your heart on the coldest of days. They will always brighten the darkest moments and lift you up whenever you've fallen down. Now, you get started. I'll bring the milk and hot chocholate. Oh, and save the beaters for me, too. J ~ Bob Perks ~ |
