Roots

As a little girl I loved to sit on my grandma’s counter and watch her bake. Some of my fondest memories are of watching her, helping, and learning. She would always let me lick the cookie dough from her whisk.

Hers was in many ways a simpler time. After growing up as a poor farmer, she didn’t think to scrutinize the hydrogenated fats, flavorings, and other newfangled commercial ingredients that had become commonplace in her suburban retail environment — ingredients her own grandmother surely couldn’t have imagined.

Just as deep roots help plants weather droughts. happy memories and sincere intentions help traditions transcend fashions for convenience and sprout anew.