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My great grandmother had a whip for a mind. She was brilliant and personable. She came to this country with five dollars in her purse, at the tender age of fourteen. She was able to parlay her five dollars into a lucrative business. She was amazing and I loved her so much.
The stories from her country held me captive as I hung onto her every word. It wasn't until years later I learned that those stories were just stories and not true accounts. She had the vivid imagination and mind of a writer. And, if she were alive today, I have no doubt she would have been a blue ribbon winner quite frequently in this, or any other forum.
There are countless memories that I hold as treasures in my heart, too many to go into at this time. However, my fondest and most memorable times took place in her kitchen. My grandmother's spacious kitchen was resplendent with a huge brick fireplace in the center of the room. The golden glow from the fire filtered across grandma's lovely face as she worked her magic through her cooking, and story-telling.
We would all enter her home through the back door. When we stepped into her kitchen a veritable bouquet of aromas would assail your nostrils. Our Sunday meals were always spent at grandma's, and they were beyond delectable. There would be a great big pot of sauce with meatballs and chicken bubbling on the stove. A monumental tray of lasagna layered five times over with mozzarella and ricotta cheese...and her home-made breads. The Italian crusty bread, pumpernickel bread, and her award winning biscuits would line up half the table. I can still see them perfectly arrayed in bread plates with red checkered cloth napkins.
The desserts would be apple pies, blueberry crumb pies, banana creme pie, and chewy chocolate chip cookies. Grandma had seven children, and all of them would be in attendance along with their children. So it was a huge gathering. What a time it was.
The most explicit memory I have of my great grandmother was her devotion to the Lord, and her worn-out Bible. Before we would enjoy our meal together she would read a passage to us. With heads bowed in thanks and praise we listened to the Word. And with Grandma's voice it came to life for all of us, especially the children.
I thank the good Lord for those memories and for Grandma, who is probably cooking up sumptuous meals in heaven as I type. Her huge kitchen with the brick fireplace is vividly etched in my mind's eye.
The family gatherings from my childhood are treasures that are housed in my heart...and the love of God that she passed on to ALL of us will live on forever.
Psalm 103:17(NKJV)
But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children.
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