I know I had a very good upbringing. I was safe. My parents instilled in me the appropriate fear of strangers without making me terrified. It was a simpler time.
When we were little kids my parents shopped at Great Scot in town. We had a store that was a little closer to us but we always drove into town for the week's groceries.
I loved going to Great Scot. They had a window where you would watch them decorate cakes. It was exciting to get to take a break from the drudgery of shopping and go watch the guys and girls make magic. They worked with such ease, even as a crowd would gather. They iced the cakes at lightening speed, smoothing it across the cake and leveling out the canvas that the cake would be. Then they got busy making flowers and writing the message.
What strikes me now about this memory are two things:
1) I don't know of a grocery store in town now that has a window for customers to watch as cakes are decorated. Pity.
2) My parents allowed me to separate from them to go to the bakery counter to watch them decorate cakes. Sometimes we'd ask to make the split just after we passed the soda aisle. . .and Mom would let us. A simpler time. A time when parents could feel safe letting their kids wander off to the bakery department and not worrying about anyone trying to snatch them.
When we got to the checkout, we'd look for Bonnie's lane. She was a gorgeous African-American lady (or should I say black? My friend Karen would say "black"). She was tall and a bit thick but she carried it so well. She always had a smile for us. It felt like she was a friend of the family.
Yup, a blessed childhood. Even the trips to the grocery store are remembered fondly.
No comments:
Post a Comment