by Cathy Baker | Faith |
For my Friday Fave, I’m closing out my trip down memory lane with one of my favorite subjects…candy.
When I spotted the fake-o cigarettes and Mallo Cups in Saluda’s old-timey general store I knew this posting was a must. My grandmother (Mom’s mother) once found me “puffing” a candy cigarette. Let’s just say I kicked the habit that day. The candy weakness that she and I did share, however, was that of a marshmallow-filled chocolate cup known as a Mallo Cup. The candy was yummy (I think I’m still working off the calories forty years later) but what drove us to buy multiple packs was the prize inside—fake money. After saving up a certain dollar amount, it would be mailed to the manufacturer for coupons.
The wooden lollipop candy holder hung just inside MaMa’s (Dad’s mother) walk-in pantry my entire childhood. Inside, were Jolly Ranchers and of course, lollipops. After finishing my homework or something else impressive (ha!) Mama would give me permission to reach up and stick my hand in the candy box. Talk about being reward driven! MaMa gave me the candy box several years ago and now I look forward to sharing the “rewards” with my own grandchildren.
Our past may not dictate our future, but it certainly can sweeten it—especially with memories such as these.
Thanks for sharing the journey through the corridors of my childhood memories this week.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
A little girl attends Vacation Bible School at Fairforest Baptist Church in Fairforest, SC, her grandparent’s church. Years later, after a painful divorce, she was determined to give church another try, both for herself and especially for her two young sons, so she loaded up the boys one Sunday morning and returned to the only church she ever really knew, not sure of what to expect. It was a very traditional Baptist church that her grandparents had helped to build decades ago. Divorce was obviously frowned upon, especially in situations like hers.
Her grandmother had suggested she try the “New Beginnings” class. She assumed it would be a room full of people much like herself, in their 20’s, and perhaps still feeling the sting of divorce in their own lives.
When she walked through the doors, however, the group that greeted her looked nothing like her. They were much older, except for a a few. Most were senior citizens who’d been widowed. For a moment she wondered if she was in the wrong class—but God had her exactly where He wanted her. Over the months, they surrounded her with unconditional love, fellowship, and much laughter. They never condemned her for the poor choices she’d obviously made, but loved her due to the choice Christ had made so many years ago.
That woman was me and I will always look back with much gratitude, and especially love, for this group of men and women who didn’t just tell me about the love of Christ, but showed me.
An eternal difference.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Both places above, located in Fairforest, SC, bring a smile to my face as they remind me of “PaPa”, my dad’s father.
For years, the building now known as “Leo’s TV” served as the country store. I was very young when PaPa managed the store, so I don’t have many memories here—but I do remember him taking a break just outside the door (check out the original and very cool double front doors above) with a cold bottle of Coke in hand. He loved his Coke and Snicker bars.
Later, he would become the Postmaster in the post-card size building above. He was always a hard worker, and even after retiring, he found ways to stay busy in his wood shop behind their house.
But my favorite memory of PaPa has nothing to do with a building. Although he had a wonderful dry sense of humor and a dedicated heart to Christ, he wasn’t known so much for playing with the kids or acting goofy with the grand kids–which is why this memory still floats about in the corridors of my memory.
At ten-years old, I was busy planning a wedding for Barbie and Ken while vacationing at Garden City, SC. (What Barbie doesn’t want to get married at the beach?) My Uncle Randy stood in as the pastor while dad, MaMa, aunts, and uncles lined up to form an aisle for my Barbie bride-to-be.
And the father of the bride? It was PaPa. Yes, he actually walked my Barbie down the aisle.
Priceless.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
The location has changed, but the glaze-filled calories have not.
As a little girl, I would often join my grandparents out for Friday night dinners, and almost always we’d end up here, at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. They liked to eat in instead of taking it home, and it’s easy to understand why. The coffee was hot and the sea-green 60’s stools were fun to sit on. As long as I could reach my “tart” doughnut that sat atop the matching Formica table, I was good to go.
I realize doughnuts may not have been the healthiest treat, but isn’t that what grandparents are for? I hope so because Brian and I are already coming up with ideas as to where we’ll take our g-babies and you’d best believe Krispy Kreme is on the list!
Now that’s what I call making sweet memories.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
In their book, “Writing Life Stories”, Bill Roorbach and Kristen Keckler, PhD, encourage readers to take a stroll through the corridors of their childhood memories.
I continue to work through the book, but to say it’s been an eye opening experience is an understatement.
In an attempt to document some of my memories, Brian and I recently took the opportunity to visit my hometown, Spartanburg, SC. You’re invited to stroll along with us over the next few days. Perhaps you’ll be encouraged to begin journaling your own childhood memories?
We drove straight past the first house I lived in as a child. It was unrecognizable to me. Although the front door is original, the now dirt-covered driveway was once a cool shade of green filled with sour grass.
Memories created here on Oakleaf Drive include:
- My purple bedroom in the back corner of the house with two corner windows overlooking the backyard.
- The Easter egg I hid in my room…and forgot about until summer.
- Spilling fingernail polish remover on my mom’s once beautiful dresser. My first encounter with grace. (Thanks, Mom.)
- The place where my parents parted ways.
- Wild pink roses sprawled along the back fence (the same type rose now sprawls in my own yard)
- Playing with my first dog, Tracks, in the backyard.
- My favorite “secret” place, located in a small area tucked between our house, a low retaining wall, and the neighbor’s shrubbery. Occasionally the neighbor’s wife would poke her head out the side door to say hello, but more often than not she allowed the little girl to play alone with her imagination.
- Splashing in the basement water. (You mean every child didn’t have their own “pool” in the basement?)
- Our single, lonely, and very quiet neighbor across the street who came home from lunch one day and committed suicide. Little did she know that her choice would linger in my corridors for forty years.
What childhood memories rattle within your corridors?
I encourage you to join in the journey.
For my Friday Fave, I’m closing out my trip down memory lane with one of my favorite subjects…candy.
