People are More Important than Things

 A lesson from my past followed by a wonderful recipe:

            Crash! As soon as the soapy antique china platter I was drying slipped from my young hands, I knew there was not going to be a good ending. Sure enough, it shattered into tiny pieces with shards flying all over my elderly Great Aunt Lona’s kitchen.

            My heart sank and my eyes quickly filled with tears—tears I tried desperately to stifle. My mother, who was hand washing the dishes, gasped and stared at me with a wide-eyed look of silent shock.

            I was ten years old, an awkward young girl in the clumsy, prepubescent state of development. My parents and I had driven from our home in Ohio to Virginia to pick up my grandfather and take him to Florida so he could visit his siblings, whom he hadn’t seen in ages. It was a memorable trip for him but also for me because I got to see Florida and to meet Aunt Lona and Uncle Den for the first and only time. They were Granddad’s brother and sister, neither who ever married. I knew them from family stories shared around the dinner table and from their letters (sent snail-mail, of course).

            Believe it or not, it was interesting to meet these relatives and especially to watch the three old siblings interact. They were quite lively and their eyes twinkled as they shared antics of their growing up years. I didn’t know my reserved Southern Gentleman grandfather could laugh so much.

            And then I dropped the dish. It was antique, like most everything in Lona’s house, and possibly very valuable. It probably belonged to her dead mother or grandmother, I thought, making myself even more miserable.

            “Oh, Honey,” said Aunt Lona, noticing my distress. “Don’t you fret. That old thing? I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years!” I couldn’t believe my ears. My mother, who hadn’t said a word, let out her breath and I choked and sniffled, still trying not to cry. My aunt’s response amazed me. Her kindness warmed me, even though I was very embarrassed.

            I never saw Aunt Lona again after that trip but, of course, I’ve always remembered her lovingly. Her legacy lives on in our family through her recipe for delicious Pound Cake. This Southern classic has a truly wonderful taste and texture because it contains half a pound (why not a whole—“pound” cake?) of rich, cholesterol-laden, artery-clogging creamy butter, lots of fresh eggs, and enough sugar to gag a hummingbird. However, as delicious as her pound cake recipe is, I remember Aunt Lona for recognizing a ten-year old girl’s feelings are far more important than any possession, no matter how valuable. The fact I recall it now, many decades later, indicates it is an important incident in my life.

When must I practice her philosophy?

My time, agendas, and material possessions are too often seen as precious commodities and so I need to remember Aunt Lona’s message when:

• a friend calls with a problem, interrupting an already over-scheduled day
• when an elderly person shares details of a story I’ve heard a zillion times
• when I break or lose something of sentimental value, like my late mother’s delicate china teacups
• when a teenaged son or daughter wants to talk far into the night altering my plan for a good night’s sleep
• when a little one comes charging with muddy feet across my just-scrubbed kitchen floor to show me a butterfly on his finger
• when a spouse deserves my attention more than a phone call or a hobby or a television show
• when a family member backs the car out of the garage and hits the second family car parked in the driveway (it’s been done!)
• when a child needs me to drop whatever I’m doing and give him or her my undivided devotion.

Thank you, Aunt Lona, for teaching me people really are more important than things.

Southern Pound Cake

(Alona Faris)

5eggs                           ¼ t. salt

1 2/3 C. sugar              2 C. flour

½ lb. butter                  1 t. vanilla

            Set eggs and butter on counter to have at room temperature. Cream butter and sugar; add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each egg. Add flour gradually. Add salt and vanilla. Bake 1 hour at 350° in buttered non-stick angel food pan. (If using Bundt pan, bake approximately 45 minutes.)