Watch and Learn

 

 

When the Appalachian mountains traded their fall-colored scarves for caps of frost, Granny fetched the big yellow bowl she kept in the highest kitchen cabinet.

With a dash of this and a pinch of that, she made her famous gingerbread. 

“Watch and learn, children” she said.

Granny and her four granddaughters lived in a clapboard house overlooking the river.

Iris Jean, 10-years-old and quick as a cat, watched Granny make the gingerbread. Fast as their best mouser, Iris Jean made the second batch. Her gingerbread was done in a jiffy; but the middle was doughy, the edges black as coal. 

Rennie Faye, only six, helped her wash the yellow bowl.

Next day, nine-year-old JoAnn whispered, “I’ll show Iris Jean.” 

JoAnn was mean as a snake. She kept her sharp tongue between her teeth and mixed and measured; but JoAnn’s gingerbread was dry as sawdust. 

Iris Jean fell over laughing.

“It’s not half bad crumbled in buttermilk,” Rennie Faye said.

Reva Carol, seven, had a cold; but she washed her hands and followed Granny around the kitchen. When it was her turn, she sneezed in the batter and had to toss it in the garbage can. Rennie Faye loaned Reva Carol her cotton handkerchief.

On Christmas Eve, Rennie Faye donned Granny’s flowered and floured apron and climbed on the wooden step stool. With a dollop of this, a scant cup of that, and a heart full of kindness, Rennie Faye made a batch of gingerbread almost as good as Granny’s.