Monday, October 17, 2011

The Other Kitchen

The women gathered in the kitchen. A kitchen that was as much theirs as was the one where they cooked daily meals for their families. The took their aprons out of their baskets and bags reaching behind to tie them. Laughter was a companion to these women who had known one another most of their lives.

Dough was rolled and cutters busy making little circles. I was old enough to place the rounds on baking sheets. The process repeated over and over again. Once a tray was removed from the oven, another took its place. Little donuts were tossed with sugar and bagged in brown paper bags. A dozen in each. It was the churches annual donut sale.

Orders had been placed for the bags of sweet delights. Of course, once the smell of fresh donuts reached the nose of the buyer, more were requested.

I miss standing in the kitchen with those women. I loved those women. Pauline, my preschool Sunday School teacher, became my friend when I became an adult, a friendship that grew in that kitchen laughing over pure silliness. I miss the smell of those wonderful donuts that showed up once a year.

Apples, donuts, pumpkins. It must be Fall.

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