Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Countdown to Christmas/Advent (10/23/08)
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TITLE: The Year That Momma Saved Christmas | Previous Challenge Entry
By Becca Gossman
10/29/08 -
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Momma went all out every Christmas, baking and making cookies and candies, breads and cakes, jelly rolls and torts. She was a fantastic cook! Everything she did, she did it for her five children and the husband she adored. She would ice and decorate and powder and smother with love every year; and we devoured the fruits of her labor.
When I was 18 (my first Christmas as a new bride) I decided I was going to continue this tradition of love in my own new home. And the day after Thanksgiving I baked, iced and decorated dozens of Momma’s recipes with the same care and love that she did for us.
The week before Christmas I noticed that I had quite a few treats made. In fact, I had so many treats, and there were only the two of us, that I sorted out cookies on plates and gave them out to our local mailman, our firemen, the newspaper boys and our Pastor. I was so proud of myself. For two reasons, first they were so pretty; and second, I had not eaten even one, vowing to keep my weight down over the holidays.
Christmas Eve, I loaded up the remainder of my goodies and we headed off to Daddy and Momma’s to celebrate together as a family. Momma was so pleased that I was continuing on with her tradition.
We ate our dinner consisting of our traditional Christmas sandwiches, veggie platter, devilled eggs and chips with dip, and then we headed for the desserts, our favorite part. I had been anticipating this moment after waiting, what had seemed forever, to indulge.
I took one bite of my cookie; well let’s say, I tried to take one bite but it would not break. Quickly I glanced up at Momma with a puzzled look as she grinned broadly. “Come in the kitchen with me, honey” she said. I followed her to the kitchen and she opened the cupboard pulling out the baking soda and the baking powder. “Which one did you use for your cookies, honey?” she asked. I pointed at the box I had used as the tears welled up in my eyes.
Momma did not laugh or chide or ridicule, she simply walked to her craft closet, pulled out some ribbon and punched little holes in my cookies. She quickly thread ribbon through every cookie, picked them and we walked back into the family room where everyone was gathered.
As Susie started to take a bite of a cookie that Momma had missed, Momma said, “Oh, wait Sue, Bethany brought those ones over for our Christmas tree decorations.” My Momma saved me from the embarrassment and humiliation that surely would have come from my siblings.
Every year as I look back on Christmas’ past, I still chuckle every time I picture the faces of those who had received the fruits of my labor as they bit into one of “Christmas decorations.”
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