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Muffins and Mayhem, Recipes for a Happy (if disorderly) Life
Dear Reader,
Once upon a time a grandma and her grandson were in the kitchen baking cookies. The grandson was in the baking zone; measuring and leveling flour and sugars, cracking eggs with ease--no shells in the batter. He knew the recipe by heart, because he'd been baking with Grandma every week for the past year. Whenever Grandma would try to lend a hand, he'd remind her, "No, no, Grandma, I know how to do that." And he did.
Yes, my grandson Paul, was moving about in the kitchen yesterday, like a 4-year-old professional baker. My only job was to put the cookie sheets into the oven and take them out when the kitchen timer rang. "The oven's too dangerous for a little boy," I told Paul when he asked if he could help, "It's too hot and you might get burned."
I bake one cookie sheet at a time. Put one in the oven, take one out and set it on top of the stove to cool. But in the midst of the usual baking routine, when I took another look at the cookies I'd just taken out of the oven, I decided they needed to bake for another minute or two. So I grabbed the cookie sheet (that had just come straight out of the oven), but the potholder wasn't on my hand...
Every kitchen's First Aid Kit should include bags of ice (I had to ice my burned hand for 16 hours), a good book, and a grandson who loves to read.
"Does your hand hurt, Grandma?"
"Yes, Paul, it hurts, very, very, bad. Even Grandma makes mistakes in the kitchen."
"I can make you feel better Grandma, I'll read you a story."
And so he did. My grandson opened the book, STONE SOUP and began to read, which meant he turned the pages and told me the story. Paul doesn't read yet, but surprisingly page-after-page, he recited the story of STONE SOUP, almost word-for-word. I guess I'd read the book to him so many times that he'd memorized the story.
"The two travelers knocked on the door," Grandma. "A young boy answered the door. His chocolate brown eyes were sweet."
"Please," said one of the hungry people. "Do you have any food? Will you share?"
"No food here."
"Does anyone have a big black pot? We'll make a soup with a magical ingredient."
"It would be better if we had a carrot."
"Everybody brought something," Grandma. "Even broccoli, my favorite. The people brought tables and cheese and they shared."
Yes, in the story of STONE SOUP, the townspeople learn that when you share, magical things happen. And yesterday as my grandson was reading to me, the magic occurred again. My hand still hurt and I couldn't take it out of the ice, but the love and concern my grandson shared, reminded me (even in the midst of my pain) that I was loved.
Sharing a little bit of yourself with someone else--it's amazing what that magical ingredient can do. Looking back, in spite of burning myself, yesterday was a "good" day. A wonderful day filled with love, that I'll always remember.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
www.MuffinsandMayhem.com
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