“I do it! I do it! I do it!” proclaimed my very excited granddaughter. “Wait sweetie. It’s Jesse’s turn. You can be next.” With great care he held the measuring cup in his left hand as he dumped the brown sugar into the mixing bowl tapping it just so.

“Me! Me! Me!” Marie reminded as she reached for an egg.

“Yes! It’s your turn. Careful honey. Let Grammy break it and you can pour it in.”

“I do it I do it I do it!”

Crunch went the egg as she tossed shell and all right into the batter. As I fished out the shells she crushed them in her little hands with delight. Jesse waited without a word on the other side as I broke the other egg for him to pour. Back and forth we went until all the ingredients were in the bowl. At least I think we got everything in.

One child is naturally patient and the other is more like her Grammy.

While I scooped the dough onto the cookie sheets and into the oven each child happily licked a beater and spatula. The whole kitchen was covered with helpfulness. Evidence of sticky little hands spread throughout the house. My grandma heart was full and happy.

Some decades ago with three little girls of my own I learned that allowing my daughters to “help” when it would be so much easier just to do it myself makes for a lot of joy… but takes a ton of patience. Not joy as in “Yippy! My house is perfect and the cookies are too!” kind of joy.

Joy like, “We’ll eventually get the stickiness off every single surface and those cookies aren’t half bad either.”

Patience takes a lot of effort, at least is does on my part. I tend to be like Marie. “I do it I do it I do it!!!” Patience is a teeny tiny sliver on my personality pie chart.

While it appeared to me that other moms had it all together in the patience department, I had to get very intentional and be patient on purpose. Here’s a prayer I used to pray often… usually as I banged my head on the wall:

“Give me patience when little hands tug at me with ceaseless small demands.

Give me gentle words and smiling eyes; and keep my lips from hasty sharp replies.

So when in years to come this house is still, beautiful memories its rooms will fill.”

   -Author Unknown

Of course we sampled the finished product when they came out of the oven. I’m not sure if it was the joy, or if amongst all the helpfulness there was extra sugar thrown in. Either way, those cookies sure were sweet!

 

Lynna Clark lives and writes in Salisbury.