Playspace: February 2008
Learning to Read
By Lorna Crozier
Mary is reading recipes:
Cinnamon she says again and again,
Then sprinkles some from the can
On her fingertips, holds them
To her nose, licks them clean.
This is what she knew before,
The taste and smell, but now
There’s this, cinnamon
Written in her mother’s hand
On the index card, and 1tsp.
Surely here is the story of a life,
The recipes making her see
Her mother’s hands
Sticky with pastry, red from beets,
Smelling of vinegar and garlic
Or apples and peach.
She has saved this box
Since her mother’s death
And opened it at night,
Her husband and the kids in bed.
For years she ran her fingers
Over a butter smudge, a smear of
Molasses that dripped from a spoon.
These she could read,
But now the words!
And it’s as if her mother were here
Again beside her in the kitchen
Measuring cinnamon,
That most beautiful of sounds,
While Mary reads out loud
What is needed next
And finds it
Newly labeled on the shelf.
Everyone should carefully observe which way his heart draws
him, and then choose that way with all his strength.
–Hasidic saying