The sugar house....

Some people seem to have a natural sweet nature; Aunt Ruth was one of those people. I can’t remember many times over the years that she wasn’t smiling and playful. There were some who said she wasn’t too bright, but I never looked at her in that way.

My first recollection of Aunt Ruth was that of a teacher; she taught grammar school. Oh, how I would have loved being one of her students. Her imagination was limitless, and not reigned in by what others thought of her ways. I guess you could say she was a free spirit.

As a child, visiting Aunt Ruth’s house was like Christmas any day of the week or time of the year. First, she would give the biggest hug you can imagine, then, scamper into the house saying over her shoulder, “and wait until you see what I have for you!” Of course, we’d follow close behind her skirt tails. She was always prepared for kids, whether she knew you were coming to visit or not.

The gifts from Aunt Ruth were priceless, and I say that in a kind way. It might have been a tin can she’d salvaged, and painted bright blue. She’d say “now, this is for your pencils, and if you don’t have any, I do.” Or, it might have been a pair of socks she’d bought on sale for a nickel after which she handed them to you she’d say “Now, wasn’t that a bargain?!” It might have even been a used piece of clothing she’d picked up somewhere with you, and only you, on her mind.

Aunt Ruth was a genuine pack rat. When she passed away there were enough 5 lb. bags of stacked, hardened sugar to build a small house. Of course, if it had rained on the sugar house, the sugar would have melted just as Aunt Ruth’s sweetness melted my heart.