Baking with Angels
One day in the early 80s, Christmas was approaching fast and I decided I'd better do some urgent baking. I could hear the two little children next door arguing in the back yard, watched over by their mother from the kitchen window, so I called down to them from my back verandah, "Rory and Marina... Want to help me make some cookies?"
Rory was five and Marina only about two and a half, so Rory always did the talking, "Yes, please."
"Ask Mummy first and tell her you will be half an hour."
The children bounded up my back stairs. Surprisingly, Marina showed the most aptitude, though her efforts with the big wooden spoon soon resulted in the table being showered with cookie dough and fruit. Rory liked to create odd shapes and faces, but soon lost interest and retired to the verandah to watch the pretty, noisy, lorikeets on the bird-feeder. I showed Marina how to roll the dough into little balls between her hands, and then flatten them with a fork. She was careful to put all the odd-shaped cookies onto the baking tray, along with the regular ones, and then I sent the children home, telling them to return in half an hour.
When I slid the tray of cookies out of the oven, I arranged all the children's creations onto two little paper plates, along with some regular ones for their mum and dad. I covered them firmly with cling wrap and the children carried them home, each child carefully guarding their plate with their arms so proudly.
After that, Rory and Marina became regular cookie-making helpers.
As I got older, I couldn't cope with the high stairs any longer because of the encroaching MS, and eventually we moved away to another suburb. Out of the blue one-day, about six years later, I got a phone call from Rory.
"Do you remember when we used to make cookies with you, Mrs Sweeper?" Rory asked.
"Oh yes," I replied, "they are very precious memories for me, Rory."
"They are for me, too" Rory replied. He told me they were also living in another suburb, and we arranged a visit.
On arrival at their house, we found that the parents had separated and the children were living with their mother. Rory was now in grade six, and Marina was preoccupied with a school-mate sleeping over. After dinner, she went off to her bedroom to play 'girl-games' with her friend. But sensitive Rory stayed close to his mum.. He had felt the separation keenly.
Rory's mum had made a lovely dinner, and we all enjoyed ourselves looking at old photos of when the children were little.
We haven't seen them since, but I am left with the most lovely memories of those happy times.
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