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Serving Colorado and the Four Corners since 1996 |
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Sometimes memory is elusive. Other times it takes us far. Who among us can't remember Grandma's Christmas Cookie Jar? Often filled with dainty morsels As it sat there on the shelf, Waiting for her kindly offer, "There are cookies. Help yourself." Oh the great anticipation As we drove toward her door Knowing goodies would await us By the dozen, by the score. Sometimes donuts, maybe cream puffs, Perhaps nutty brown fruitcake. It was enough to make my head spin, Knowing just how much to take! Other days we found her waiting With an apron in her hand, Asking if we'd like to help her To create a treat quite grand. With the flour to my elbows And a hefty rolling pin I would roll the dough out smoothly, Find a pan to bake it in. Then with little cookie cutters, We would cut each piece to size, And we'd peek into the oven As they browned before our eyes. She would let us taste and sample, Warning us that they were hot, While we filled our hungry tummies As though glued there to the spot. Sweet aromas filled her kitchen, Those of cinnamon and spice, And we felt we were in heaven, Or at least some paradise. In the role of loving, giving, Grandma truly was a star. And among my fondest memories Is her Christmas Cookie Jar. copyright Nona Kelley Carver |