Cookies

When I was in first grade at school, I came home one day and told my mother that I was supposed to bring cookies to school the next day for the whole class. Now, I don’t remember any of this, but I’m confident that I believed this burden was placed on my tiny shoulders; well, my mother’s.

At that time, we lived in the country, and my mother had neither a car nor a license to drive. She went into panic mode – rummaged through our pantry she came up with an impromptu receipt and proceeded to make fifty cookies – her math was that each child would want two cookies, and the teacher would want one or two, and there would be leftovers in case visitors were there. We didn’t see Mom that evening as she turned our kitchen into a bakery factory.

The Next Day

The next day she made it a point to come to school with me – I don’t know how – to make sure I didn’t eat, lose, or destroy the cookies for which my whole class was anticipating. I don’t remember this. However, I do remember this next part. Upon arriving, Mom handed the cookies to my teacher with a perfunctory apology about hoping she’d made enough and that they tasted okay. My teacher was speechless, which was quite unusual for her. She calmly explained to my mother that there wasn’t a special occasion, and she had not requested cookies from any parent. My teacher laughed; my mom rather stiffly responded in kind. Mom left, leaving the cookies for the class. I thought it was a great treat, not knowing that for the rest of her life, my mother never let me forget that incident.

Cookie Fiasco

Admittedly, the cookie fiasco, as it’s come to be known, is a trivial event. Still, this event demonstrates the lengths to which a parent will go do for their kids. “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11) Now that’s good news!

Photo by Ashley Kirk on Unsplash

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