When I was a little girl I lived with my grandmother. Every year we made cookies for the neighbors and an elderly shut-in that lived down the street. I'd go with her to deliver these gifts. The recipients always shared with me and I love cookies. But even more than that was the joy that it brought to visit and bring such a simple present. It was worth all the cheek pinches suffered at each home.
My personal favorite was the elderly neighbor who lived alone in her tiny house. The things I remember about her home was the coffee smell and the glorious clutter. There were treasures in every corner and piles on every flat surface. The eyes struggled to focus on any one thing because the room was filled with colorful books, nick knacks, quilts and doilies, old dolls and a tiny television covered in dust. She had a tiny silver Christmas tree with hand made ornaments. The living/dining room was toasty and anything she might want close at hand. It was a comfortable and friendly home with Christmas cards on a red yarn string across the walls at grown-up eye level. We'd stay for a long time visiting and hearing stories about her extended family. She made the stories and characters so vivid I felt like I knew them.
That connection through story stayed with me through the years and no doubt influenced my desire to be an author. The best stories happen over a dinner with family and friends. They will stay with us forever and pop into our novels from time-to-time. Sharing that time and stories is the most wonderful gift we can give or receive.
Have a Happy, Healthy Holiday Season.
Author of the feisty family series