I had almost forgotten them.
Cookie-making is once a year now,
But little ones (now grands) were bored
And I needing to give them time.
Down to the kitchen: What do we have?
Not much, and hardly any butter,
A light comes on: peanut butter!
We make do, adapt, shape balls,
Then they learn to dip the fork in flour
And press this way, then that,
Leaving the old crisscrossed patterns
I know from childhood.
Then the wait, the excitement
Only the young know well.
The removing (Don’t touch!)
And the other wait they hate so much.
Why? They’ll burn you.
Let’s have milk!
We invent a party with a candle too.
These are the simple rituals
Passed on again,
Those simple gifts.