Secret Ingredient


At Gram’s,
I did not come down in the morning
until I heard Grandpap leave for work.

Not to get in the way.

* * *

Gram would make me whatever I wanted for breakfast,
listing daily a half-dozen options.

But all I wanted was scrambled eggs.

Well into adulthood
I praised my grandmother’s scrambled eggs
as the very best
and was unable to duplicate them
until, by accident one time –
– and this was after I was married –
the margarine I used to grease the pan
burned a little.
I poured the egg mixture in anyway.

I tasted the eggs.
“That’s it!” I said. “Those are Grammie Bess’ eggs!”

It was not, I discovered,
that she was a stellar cook
but
the atmosphere around her table
that caused the memory to press wonderfully warm.
The magic ingredient, at last found.

Better a dry crust with peace and quiet
than a house full of feasting with strife.

Proverbs 17:1 (NIV).

About Marilyn

Reading, thinking, listening, writing and talking about faith, creativity, ESL for refugees, grief and finding the story in a story. Student of Spanish. Foe of procrastination. Cheez-it fan. People person with hermit tendencies or vice-versa. Thank you so much for reading.
This entry was posted in discoveries, food, home, peace, summer week at Gram's. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Secret Ingredient

  1. annie says:

    funny…my mum gave us cornflakes and scrambled eggs every day when we were at home….and I have never been able to eat cornflakes since. Took me many years before I wanted a plate of scrambled eggs again!

    Like

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