Memories From Childhood: Got A Favorite?

Message 144 of 955

Fond Memories and Broken Cookies

I recently had a memory of being a young child and waiting patiently for mommy to come home with the box of broken up cookies from Morris’s grocery and Deli. Morris was a middle age Jewish man of about 45 years of age. He was the nicest man, and knew that my mom had problems feeding us kids, so he would do little things like give us treats that he could not sell. I am not sure how he got the cookies in, but I do recall he would allow my mom to purchase a cardboard box of them for about $2.00. There were a lot of cookies in the box, and we’d have them for at least a week. I’d say the box was about the size of two large shoe boxes glued long sides together, and also about twice as high. Oh the fun and excitement for my two sisters and I going through the large box of broken cookies, looking for the possibility of finding a whole cookie. The cookies were the round sandwich type of chocolate or vanilla with a vanilla icing in the center. Of course there would be loads of crumbs in the bottom of the box, but loads of cookies for us to sift through until we came to the crumbs. We especially liked the large pieces or the occasional whole cookies we’d find.
I often wonder why an adult of 62 would still have it in her mind to recall that small gesture of Mr. Morris. I wonder if he knew how happy he was making three little girls who almost never got a treat. Somehow, I think he did then and does now. He had such a good heart.

posted by LouiseAZ

Replies 1 - 10 of 18

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seems all my childhood memories have to do with the color red. My Grandmother was a civil rights activist before the word was coined. She was my Harriet Tubman. She always wore the largest white apron and carried her money in a floral hankie pinned to the inside of the pocket. We walked downtown at least twice a week to buy produce, she pulled a red wagon. As a child I always noticed how the other "coloreds" (that is what we were called back then) were treated but my Grandmother was treated with reverance. I was given goodies and known as Mamie's little girl.

My second Red memory: I was around twelve when i became the "big girl" in the house, which meant, it is now your time to do all the dishes. My father took me downtown bought me coffee and donuts and bought me my very own Red dishcloths.

I now collect red antique wagons and all my dishcloths are red.

posted by gmom5
23 days ago

I remember staying with my Nana for a week during the summer. It could have been excruciatingly boring, but my curious little self would find all kinds of ways to occupy the time, by playing in the small backyard of her brownstone, or playing with her many ceramic figurines and making up elaborate stories about them. She was quick to laughter and could be coaxed into playing with me. I think she enjoyed the feeling of liberation it gave her. I smile when I think of how she insisted I bathe in scalding hot water every night, and she would scrub, scrub, scrub my back till it was pink and shone. lol! I have several of those ceramic figurines in my house today.

Another favorite memory is the time my brother Steve "saved" me. I guess I was around 7, which would have made Steve 13-14. I was walking home alone from school (everybody walked in my town, no buses), and 3 or 4 boys were walking behind me, taunting me. I was nervous and trying not to cry or run, wishing the road would just swallow me up. To my great relief, Steve appeared on his bike, which had a huge wire basket on the front since his after-school job was delivering the evening newspaper, and that was where he piled the newspapers. He must have been on his way to pick up the papers since the basket was empty. He quickly dispersed my taunters and put me in the basket and rode me home. My hero. :)

posted by SueAnne55
23 days ago

One of my favorite is of my father;

He would buy a bag full of bubble gum and sat in his big chair pulling out one piece at a time, chewing and chewing and chewing...adding more until it was soft and he could blow a huge bubble. He placed all seven of us around the chair on the floor. thats when he would begin to blow the bubble and when he dropped his hand as a way to say the bubble was ready, we would all scramble to our feet and try to be the first one to pop the bubble ...the prize was a piece of bubble gum for ourself. There was always laughter and such a warm feeling...dad would never stop until each of us "won" a piece of gum...the best part...was my dad's own laughter...it was contagious!

posted by starrybright
23 days ago

Those are some great stories!!! Come on gang, we need more.

posted by LouiseAZ
23 days ago

ten cent jukeboxes

penny candy

crinolines

pressed hair

Easter speeches

finger waves

posted by gmom5
22 days ago

I remember playing outdoors...games like cool can, pop-the-whip, and just plain old foot races. Sometimes we'd even 'race the rain'. We'd see a wall of rain coming down the road, wait until it almost reached us, then we'd run like the dickens until it overtook us and we got drenched! Can't say we didn't get our exercise back then...

I also remember going over to my grandmother's house and helping her make huck-a-bucks and popcorn balls. She'd sell them to the neighborhood kids. I especially liked helping her because I'd get the remaining irregular shaped popcorn balls. My grandmother was always laughing...what a good soul she was!

posted by Tess57
22 days ago

I was young, three years old. We lived in a small town, Olney, Illinois. We rented the downstairs of a two story house with the owner living upstairs. She was a kindly older woman, with a closet filled with toys she would on occasion let me play with. But my special memory was outside.

Olney Illinois has a genetic variant of squirrels with white fur. They are protected by law and are very tame. I would go outside with a sack filled with nuts. They would come eat the nuts out of my hand. I'd try so hard to be quiet, but eventually there would come a squeal of delight. Age three was a confusing age for me. It was that year the transgender thing came to the fore, driving a wedge we never fully overcame. But I still remember those squirrels and smile. By that winter, the effort was on to "butch" me up. Here I am posed for Christmas:

posted by Labrys3
22 days ago

Two of my favorite memories: Asking my daddy to read me the "please reads" and sitting on his lap while he read me the comics from the paper.

Going to my [paternal] grandma's house to stay overnight. I remember the smell of LifeBuoy soap and the incense she burned in the bathroom, and the safe, soft feel of the feather bed we slept in. We'd play a silly little game, where we would take turns making up a very short story (i.e. I was walking down the street and I saw a big black stick..) Whoever jumped in first said "I one it," the other said "I two it" etc til we got to I eight (ATE) IT!