As I watered my plants last night, just before sundown, I had a welcome surprise: my first pink hedge rose is about to open. It is perfect, nestled among the green leaves and it certainly lightened my heart to see it. I thought of the last lines of a poem by Joyce Kilmer, “Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.” And only God can make a rose or a baby’s tiny fist, for that’s what the pink rose reminded me of, the small pink fist of a baby, fingers curled together as he sleeps. How does God make such wonderful things? It is a mystery.
Yesterday after school, Nathan and I baked a chocolate pie, his favorite. He was pretty disgusted with his mem Saturday when he and his dad dropped in and I had nothing for dessert but cookies. He crossed small arms over his chest, frowned, looked up at me and said, “Mem! I wanted a chocolate pie.” So I promised him that after school Monday, we’d bake that pie.
And that’s what we did. I hauled out flour, shortening, rolling pin and we began the crust. Nathan had to stand on a chair to reach the counter and stir but that’s OK. His sister had to do the same thing and she still enjoys baking. After the crust was rolled out and popped into the oven, we set about putting together the chocolate filling. Of course, among all the measuring and dumping into pans, a lot of tasting was going on. And singing. I’m not sure what there was about a chocolate pie that inspired Nathan to sing “Yellow Submarine” as he worked.
The upshot of all this was that after the pie was baked to perfection, I put it into a brown paper sack and he took it home for supper. I appreciated the sunny smile that lit his face much more than that disapproving frown! I’m sure his family agreed that the pie was delicious and Chef Nathan was a hit. Nathan took the chocolatey dessert home but he left his mem with something that money can’t buy–the memory of an hour spent baking with my grandson.
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