A Honey of a Memory

I love honey! The color, the smell, and most of all, the taste. My first memory of honey was at my mammy's(great-grandmother) house. In the front hall across from the stairs was one of those old telephone cabinets. In the door compartment of her telephone cabinet was a large jar of honey shaped like a bear. I remember sitting on the floor with my Sunday Dress on and that big bear right in front of me, legs stretched out wide. I dipped all my fingers in all at once and licked off every drop. I took no notice nor cared who was in that room; it was just me and that honey.

Then I heard the sharp piercing sound of my mother's voice as she gasped and screamed at me. Being only 2 or 3 years old, I froze with fright! Then a strong, commanding voice spoke (not yelled) from my mammy across the hall, "You will not touch that baby!"The fact that my mother stopped,shut her mouth tight, and did not stop me has become etched in my memory.
To me, my mother was powerful, and everyone listened to her. But, here was this sweet tiny woman who was able to control even her. She looked down at me and motioned with her hand to continue. Her eyes told me she enjoyed every moment of watching me and maybe secretly had always wanted to do the same.

My new playset brings back those memories.


Wooden Fairy Doll, Bee Keeping/Market Day Playset with Playbox

2 comments:

Garden State Kate said...

What a wonderful memory!!

Aisha said...

I LOVE that story! I wish I could sit in a pool of honey too :) And your new playset is adorable!

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