With mouth full of his third biscuit, crumbs falling on the table, Levi wistfully whispers to no one and to everyone, “Wish Granny made her biscuits for us every day.”
I can remember being his age and savoring Granny’s biscuits, the honey soaked into fresh-out-of-oven warmth. Our hands can feed generations; this apron work matters.
He fingers up crumbs, a dropped raisin.
And then, hopeful, licking the butter off his upper lip, “I want to know how to make biscuits just like these.” He shakes a biscuit at me, punctuating each adamant word. A boy knows what his stomach likes.
“You think Granny would show Hope and I how to make her tea biscuit recipe?”
And I grin, knowing I get to say my word again, magnetic word that draws smiles to itself.
My mother, and her mother, they come, with recipes written only in memories. For hands, they remember how to love.
White heads halo in a January kitchen and children marvel.
Four generations roll the wooden pins and light falls warm on our backs.
Levi brushes flour off his cheek and Granny reminds Hope not to overwork the mix so the biscuits won’t be tough and I think how life isn’t too much different than that and Mama washes dishes.
Aged hands guide the young and they synchronize, this choreographed duet of flour dusting and perfect circles and all afternoon, we eat love.
“Good, Granny!” Levi’s mouth is full again and he grins. Granny chuckles and Mama winks at me through floured glasses.
Winter wind blows snow across the fields and all our days, we open wide our mouths and He fills it.
Every day He nourishes us in a thousand ways and even the crumbs taste good and His grace is the best thing to eat to make a soul grow well. What God gives in a day is the perfect soul food for He only gives for our good.
The Son’s warm on our backs.
We eat love.
::: ::: ::: :::
the love He feeds us, the every day grace He nourishes us with… more multitudes on a Monday
1324. Organizing mitts
1325. Spin of the washing machine
1326. Tick of the clock
1327. Boy rabble over dominoes
1328. Enamelware dinner plates
1329. A very simple recipe on those plates that boys ask to have again tomorrow
1330. Snow white heads working in the kitchen
1331. Flannel sheets
1332. Maybe meeting you this year?
1333. Granny’s Tea Biscuits
1334. Cleaning toilets
1335. Zippering up coats for little people
1336. Long Silences on Sundays
1337. Dad’s laugh
1338. Poetry while the wind blows
1339. the squeezing hugs of nieces
1340. reading books of words sent from friends
1341. Praise songs
1342. Dirt on potatoes
1343. Old brooms
1344. Barefeet warming on registers
For He has satisfied the thirsty soul,
And the hungry soul He has filled with what is good.
~Ps. 107:9
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Photos: tea biscuits and silver hair in the kitchen
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