Rolling Pin Memories

Reader Contribution by Connie Moore
Published on August 25, 2015
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Watching the elderly woman roll pie dough, one could almost imagine her in earlier years. A bit taller maybe, dark hair instead of white. A different kitchen window, larger, looking out onto her kitchen garden with fields of corn beyond. Towheaded children playing nearby, begging for pie dough scrapes to be baked with cinnamon and sugar especially for them.

Now though, alone in a smaller house, the woman still does what she enjoys most. Baking pies. The rolling pin brings back sweeter memories than the sugary filling going into the pie. Her husband, who passed on a long time ago, gave her the rolling pin on their first anniversary, well over 60 years ago.

He made the solid wood pin; shaped and smoothed it to fit her hands, like her hand fit into his as they took their evening walks across the farm. Just as the rolling pin produced an even pastry, their life together was pretty much on an even keel.

Oh, every once in a while they had a bad spot, like the bruises in the apples she peeled this morning. Some were larger than others. But in the end there was always enough love and forgiveness to bring on another day together. Another pie.

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