Hello Sweet Readers,
My brother, Hugh, called me yesterday and we took a trip down Memory Lane. It is so wonderful to have someone that shared your childhood and youth. We talked about the games we played: One-Two-Three-Redlight, Red Rover, Hop-Scotch, marbles and many more. Hugh remembered that just before twilight, mother would call us to supper, which brought us to the subject of Sunday dinners.
We often walked home from church and when we turned the corner onto Railroad Avenue, we knew we were in for a treat. We ran into the house and changed from our Sunday clothes, for me that was frilly dresses with stiff crinolines and shoes with lacy socks. We would follow our noses to the kitchen table that strained to hold, what we considered, a feast.
A roast, or fried chicken, sat on a platter with bowls of vegetables and hot homemade biscuits and a gravy bowl. Jars of jellies and pickles from my Aunt Grace filled what little space was left on the table. After the dinner dishes were cleared came the special moment of the meal: dessert. One Sunday it would be banana pudding, another German chocolate cake. In summer there would be fruit cobblers crowned with a big scoop of ice cream. Every once in a while my aunt, Minnie, would send over a Tutti Frutti Cake. Oh, to taste that heavenly concoction again.
After dinner we would retreat to the porch swing. My father would stand and tip his hat if a lady would walk past. Neighbors would often visit, and when we children got bored with the grown-up talk a game would ensue. It was a simpler time.
Dinner at Aunt Grace’s house was bigger than life. Aunt Grace and Uncle Herschel lived in a white farmhouse surrounded by barns and fields. A favorite thing was to watch Aunt Grace feed her peacocks. I have many stories to share about my aunt in upcoming posts. Every child should have a magical person like Grace in their lives.
Aunt Grace cooked all day Saturday for Sunday dinner. She would have several meats and homegrown vegetables from her garden. Both cornbread and biscuits would grace her table. Chow-chow, all kinds of pickles, jellies and jams, and apple butter sat in pretty canning jars. Sweet tea and cold rivers of milk were served from antique pitchers. You always had a choice of yummy desserts. After dinner, she would cover the table with a pretty patterned tablecloth. Family would drop by and fill a plate and then we would have the leftovers for supper.
What wonderful memories Hugh and I have of visits at Aunt Grace’s farm.
While my mother’s and Aunt Grace’s tables are so dear in my memory, the table that means the most to me is the Lord’s Supper table. Tears fill my eyes at the sight of the snowy white cloth draped over the supper elements. What a blessing and honor to be invited to partake of the supper with time for self-examination and for re-dedication of my service to the Lord.
Sweet readers, I hope you are having a wonderful time with family and friends as the summer days edge their way toward fall. I pray you find time for family dinners filled with love and laughter. Make memories to last a lifetime.
My brother and his wife are coming for a visit in October and I hope to have some of Mother and Aunt Grace’s dishes waiting for them. Maybe we will go outside and sit on our country porch…maybe have a game of marbles. Wonder if I still have my cats eyes and my favorite “shooter”.
Come go home with me,