Important Women
Seven year old Abby Richardson was not sure where her grandmother was. At home with grandpa James? Getting off the school bus, she decided to go to the Estate kitchen. Maybe she was with Cook. Her mother wouldn’t get home until suppertime. She was going to be at school late for parents’ meetings. A shy, quiet girl, she opened the kitchen door and tiptoed in. “Cook?” Her little voice barely loud enough to be heard, but Cook had expected her. “It’s ok, Abby. Come in and get some cookies. Just baked them this afternoon. What’s that you’ve got there? Did you make this today?” Abby handed her the poster that she had made for her grandmother. “It’s not very good, but teacher wanted us to make a poster about the women we think are important to us.” Cook looked at it for a long time. “That’s a lot of flowers, Abby. I can guess who some of them are but I’m not sure about the other ones.” Abby grinned. “Grandma is one, Mom is one……you guessed those didn’t you.” She was almost jumping up and down. Cook wrinkled her forehead, put her hand on her chin and thought hard. “Miss Em is one……..and….” she looked at the little girl for a sign that she was right. When Abby nodded, her grin getting wider, and her jump a little bigger, Cook knew she was on the right track. “That’s three important women, but there’s still three flowers. Hmmm…..Miss Dez? Can’t be. You don’t see her very often.” Abby giggled. “Not very much, but she’s so much fun! And she lets me help her in the orchard. I get to eat apples and Ben is too busy riding his bike.”
Cook poured herself a cup of tea, got Abby her glass of milk and they sat down to study the poster again. Abby really wanted Cook to guess the last two. “Who else, Cook?” She bit down on her cookie. Taking a quick sip of tea, Cook ticked off the list of women on her fingers. “Your teacher?” Abby squirmed in her seat, laughed and shook her head. “She’s important but not as much as ……..” She stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. Cook had been teasing Abby, but suddenly realized she was one of the flowers. “Oh, Abby, you don’t mean me do you?” Cook didn’t tear up often, but she reached in her apron for a tissue. Dabbing at her eyes and putting the tissue away, she hugged her friend’s granddaughter. She wanted this child to tell her why she was included, but instead asked about the little blossom sheltered by the bigger flowers. “That’s me Cook! Can’t you tell? Everyone is big people and I’m just little right now. But I want to be like all of you because you are all kind to me and Ben and to everyone.’ She hesitated and took another cookie. “And you’re always here, especially when I need you.” She got up and hugged Cook and whispered “And you make good cookies.”
~~~~~
Abby didn’t know it but in her young life, she had watched and spent time with all of these women. She had experienced life with her mother who taught them at home and then saw her at school in her role as teacher. Most often, calm and smiling, but Abby had seen her vulnerable and crying. She had watched her grandmother, soft and kind and then at work, organized and assertive. Miss Dez and Miss Em, she saw from the distance of a shy child. How they treated each other and the people at the Estate. Always with kindness. Miss Dez was more patient than Miss Em, but Abby let that pass. And Cook. She had a special place in that little girl’s heart. It was like having an aunt or another grandma. When her own grandma wasn’t there, Cook was.
She really did want to be like all of them. Deep inside she knew she also wanted to be herself.
“She does not know what the future holds,
but she is grateful for slow and steady growth.”
~ Morgan Harper Nichols
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