Apples Tinsel and Time

Memories of sweet sugared delicacies, mingled with the scent of pine. Apples baking in the oven, while a mound of dough rises beneath a checkered cloth on the maple table.

The door opens with a swoosh and grandmother turns to see who it is. Bright blue eyes, filled with water from the bitter cold, look up at her. Red, shiny cheeks and lips that grin beneath a shiver, cover the young boy's face. Eight year old Blake stomps his boots off and throws his coat on top of them, instead of on the hook by the door. He runs to hug his favorite Grandmother.

The tall woman with soft crinkles smiles at him, one hand in the sink filled with apples. “My goodness, are you just about frozen? Go stand by the stove and warm your hands.” She notices the chapped red fingers. “Why didn't you put your gloves on this morning, Blake? It's too cold to romp about without them today.”

The child lowered his eyes and went to the wood stove. “I don't have any, Gran.” He sees the pained look on her face and his lids squint almost shut. He didn't mean to tell. His gloves had gotten lost last winter during a sled ride and his parents couldn't afford another pair.

Grandmother doesn't respond. Her thoughts were fixed on the brightly wrapped packages hidden in the front closet. A nice pair of red wool gloves are tucked inside one of them. She wasn't the type of person to hand out gifts at the drop of a hat. Hard times through the years had geared her to remain thrifty, even at Christmas time. She told the child that she'd be right back and headed into the front room.

The door to the closet creaked loudly when she opened it and she glanced behind her to be sure he wasn't close by. It took a bit of arranging to find the package she wanted. It was wrapped in red paper with pine cones and needles patterned on it. She'd picked it especially for Blake because he always loved the smell of pine. It meant Christmas for him.

When she went back to the kitchen, Blake had pulled the old stool up close to counter where she'd been working on peeling apples for pies. 

“Okay, Blakey, I'm giving you this present early. But let's keep this a secret. Just you and me. I wouldn't want the rest of the children to feel slighted.” She handed him the box.

Blake's mouth frowned and he ran his hand over the package in his lap. Tears were close to the brim and he said, “I can't...the others won't understand.”

Grandmother hugged him to her. “All you have to say is you found them in your dresser drawer. Nobody has to know otherwise.” She tapped a finger on the box. “Open this now, and remember on Christmas morning that you've already had a secret gift.” Her tone was sharp, but the smile on her lips told a different story.

“Thank you, Gran.” He rubbed the gloves against his face and closed his eyes. “I'll be able to help you in the woods tomorrow without even getting cold.” He began to picture the visit to the forest they always took this time of year, to gather greenery to decorate Grans house.

“Yes you will, honey. Here, taste this piece of apple and tell me if it's sweet enough.” She placed a slice in his mouth.

After a crunchy chew he said, “Mm, just right. I love cinnamon sugared apples. Can you teach me how to make them, Gran?”

Grandmother laughed and tugged his cold little ear. “Do you know how to peel apples?”

The child smiled, his eyes glistened with happiness. “I'll be right back.” Jumping off the stool he went out the door before Grandmother knew what he was doing. The gloves and coat forgotten in his excitement and hurry.

A few minutes later Blake returned. “Look, Gran. Ya know what this is?”

She laughed and took the contraption from his arms.. With hands on her hips she said, “I reckon I do know. It's an apple peeler. Where'd you find this old thing?” She recognized it immediately. “I haven't seen this since we moved from the old house. Years ago.”

“It was in the back of the shed in an old tub. I pulled it out last summer and cleaned it up, but I only had one apple to peel with it.” He shrugged his shoulders and wrinkled his lip. “Then I forgot about it until today.”

Gran touched a finger to a freckle on the tip of his nose. “Good job, little man. Let's set this old thing up over here on the counter and peel some apples.”

An hour later another pie was in the oven. Gran wiped her hands on her apron and took a bite of raw apple. She handed Blake the bowl with a grin. “Munch on these before you go. You were quite a help turning that handle. We'll have to do this again soon.”

He gladly dug in with gusto. “Gran, is it time to bake cookies yet? I can help with those too, you know.”

She threw her head back and howled with laughter. This young'un had figured out just how to get his hand in the cookie dough early. Without the competition of his cousins. “We'll see. Next week, when you're out of school for the holidays. Now you put those gloves on before you go back out. It's freezing out there. I can smell snow coming by nightfall.”

Blake sent her a smile and blew her a kiss with his red gloved hand, then pulled the door shut behind him.