memories

I was scrolling through a popular social media site one rainy Saturday morning when I happened upon a picture with the caption “Old Fashioned Donut Muffins.” I immediately thought to myself, “Those look like the muffins Blanche made!”

Blanche was Daddy’s cousin. When I was a preschooler, we spent a lot of time with Blanche and her husband, Elbert. They were wonderful, kind, salt-of-the-earth people. Mom didn’t work outside the home at that time, and so when Elbert had to make regular trips to Jefferson City for doctor’s visits, Mom drove them. These weekly outings occurred during summer break from school, and so sister and I rode along. I ate my first restaurant food (the most delicious piece of buttered toast I’d ever tasted) on the first of those outings.

I recall the summer afternoon that Mom had to run an errand and let us stay with Blanche and Elbert for a few hours. They lived on a quiet little street in town, quite the novelty for a little girl who lived on a gravel road in the country. We walked down the street to visit Elbert’s sister and played outside in the yard. We were having a grand time when I realized I had waited just a little too late to make a necessary trip to the house. I just knew I’d be in trouble, but at the first sign of a tear Blanche assured me that accidents happen and everything would be alright. I can still see that dear lady ironing my freshly-washed undies dry before Mom returned.

My fifth birthday celebration that August marked the beginning of my school days. Back then, Kindergartners in our district only went to school for a half day. Daddy took me to the afternoon class on his way back to work from lunch, then I rode the school bus home with my sister. One afternoon after school we found a box of glazed muffins on the kitchen table, a homemade treat from Blanche and Elbert. I still remember biting into one of those muffins. They were wonderful! I’ve never had muffins like those before or since. I searched through Mom’s recipes many times over and never found a recipe for Blanche’s muffins. I have tried several recipes over the years, and although they are good, I’m always disappointed that they don’t match the taste of those Blanche made for us so long ago.

I realize that every day advertisers capitalize on the human’s inclination to relate images with experiences, yet I stand amazed at how a photograph of a simple muffin can trigger such memories. Blanche and Elbert are many years gone now, but the essence of who they were remains with those whose lives they touched. No doubt they thought nothing of the kindnesses they showed to our family, and to others. Simple kindnesses exchanged can make a great difference. What we consider little things so often are what others remember as meaning so much.

Copyright 2017 Sherry Hathaway. All rights reserved.