In the first few hours of the day, her kitchen is cold, but in spite of this, she sets to work. From her tin recipe box-decorated with colorful fruits and vines, she pulls out a dog eared card. Christmas Sugar Cookies
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
She brushes a stray piece of silvered hair from her eyes to better see this recipe that she is about to follow. Over the years, she’s made these cookies dozens of times, but she wants to make sure, once again, that they are perfect.
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
As she measures, and pours, and stirs, her mind begins to wander, but the path it takes is familiar. She is remembering other years, and other baking days when this very same recipe was the one that lay on the counter in front of her. A lot of water under the old bridge, she thinks to herself. 94 years worth of water.
Cream together the powdered sugar, butter, egg, vanilla, baking soda and cream of tartar. Mix in flour. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours. Roll out small portions of dough 3/16” thick on lightly floured surface. Cut into shapes. Bake at 375 degrees for 7 to 8 minutes until golden brown. Let cool, and frost, if desired.
In the way that 94 years can go by in the blink of an eye, this day has come to an end. She pours herself a glass of milk and drinks it, and then pours a second glass, and sets it on a painted wooden tray. From her china cupboard-older than she is-she takes out a piece of her best Haviland china. A salad plate. On it, she carefully arranges three cookies, and puts the plate on the tray beside the milk. Taking the tray to the living room, she places it on the coffee table next to her Christmas tree.
She tucks herself into bed, but she knows that it will be hard to sleep tonight. She has nothing to fear though. She has been a very good girl this year.
Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.
~Laura Ingalls Wilder
This post is dedicated to children everywhere, both big and small. Blessings to you, dear readers.