Connie's Coda*
Monthly Column by Constance Gilbert

Do you remember the first time you received flowers? From a man? I do. I was seven and feeling pretty miserable. I had been to the hospital to have my tonsils removed and about the time I was feeling better, I broke out in a rash. The “hard” measles meant I was stuck in the darkened bedroom without anything to do. We didn’t have TV yet and I was just learning how to read, plus looking at books or coloring pictures was difficult in the dark. My mother was trying to keep my six year old brother and four year old sister away from me -- I can imagine the thought of three children down with the measles at the same time probably was a bit scary.

If you remember, the parsonage was right across the street from our house. Thus it was no surprise that the Reverend knew I was sick. But when he came bursting into the bedroom with his big smile, I was surprised my mother even let him by her. In his hand was a vase of spring flowers, which he handed me saying, “If you have to stay quiet in a dark room, at least you should have something to enjoy!”

The flowers were lovely, but it was the vase that caught my eye and captured my heart. It was shaped like a young girl wearing a long, Victorian dress in various shades of pink. Her hair was light brown with ringlets falling gently about her sweet face. I imagined that she felt sad that I was all alone for she wasn’t smiling very much. Her hands laid gently upon her dress and I knew at once her long fingers were meant to play the piano or a harpsichord.

We spent hours talking with no fear of her catching the measles.

How very special I felt! Being a daddy to two girls probably helped him know how to cheer me up. And I have never forgotten the Reverend’s kindness and understanding that day.

I kept that vase for over 40 years; even after it fell off the shelf and could no longer hold water. She remained a reminder of the flowers of understanding, kindness and loving care that I had received as a child.

The Reverend was always available and easy to talk with -- I could ask him things I would never have asked my parents. I think it was because I watched the interactions between the girls (my babysitters) and their parents. Everything was said and done in love.

What a contrast that was to my family!

As wonderful as Reverend B. was, Mrs. B. was a picture of “Mother Knows Best.” She taught school so wasn’t home in the daytime, but after school the place to be was in her kitchen. It always smelled so good!

Many of life’s lessons were taught in her kitchen and I was privileged to listen in.

There’s a saying that a house is made of brick and stone, but a home is made with love. It took me many years to realize God had provided a role model for such a home -- one filled with love and good parenting skills.

In contrast my home was made up of conflict and contradictions. At seven I saw the difference, but it would take many years to sort it all out.

The thought I want to leave you with is that I did sort it out. I did make some sense of it. I did break the chain and refused to pass it on.

In closing, I want to share a memory. The memory of smelling Mrs. B.’s cookies -- actually her mother’s recipe for Dipped Butterscotch Cookies.

Make up a batch... ignore the calories... and share them with someone who needs a kindness shown, someone who needs to be encouraged. Then e-mail me. I want to hear that Gram G.’s cookies can still make a difference!

---

Dipped Butterscotch Cookies

Mix together:

1 cup Crisco shortening
1 cup boiling water
3 cups brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups flour, sifted - don’t use it all until you test bake a cookie,
as cookies must rise and then sink and turn crisp
2 cups raisins or finely chopped nuts (or a mixture of raisins & nuts)

Bake at 350 degrees. Watch carefully; remove when golden brown.

Dip immediately upon removing from cookie sheet and lay them on waxed paper to cool.

Dip:

3 cups powdered sugar
speck of salt
3/4 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon vanilla

---

About the Author: Connie is currently writing a book on Breaking the Chains of emotional abuse. She is the coauthor of "Christ's Light: In and Beyond Us" (an e-book), and she writes for several Christian publications. Connie would love for you to visit her blog site found at www.consheartstrings.blogspot.com. She can be contacted by e-mail to: cgeewriter@yahoo.com.