When mama gets out her yellow bowl,
and her sturdy wooden spoon,
She sets out butter and some eggs,
and a can of cinnamon.
I watch as she finds raisins and
a bottle of molasses,
They she gets out her rolling pin,
and she never even asks us,
’cause she knows we all love cookies
and the cookie crock needs fillin’,
I help her cream sugar, eggs, and butter,
and don’t do any spillin’;
From the Hoosier cupboard comes
the Watkin’s bottle of the flavoring,
My mouth begins a-watering,
In wild anticipation;
Then ma takes out her receipt book,
the one she writes inside,
with only just her best receipts,
the ones she serves with pride;
I know she knows it all by heart,
but she says it wouldn’t do
to forget a single thing,
and this I know is true;
I watch as flour, soda, salt,
go in the yellow bowl,
and when the bits of dough have baked,
I know she’s reached her goal.
While the spicy cookies cool
on mama’s wooden table,
I help her clean the kitchen up,
As well as I am able.
from the icebox, mama brings out milk
and pours us each a glass,
And asks do I want to taste
the little cakes?
I thought she’d never ask!
Sandra Lee Smith
Originally posted June, 2010,
Updated September 4, 2018
Sandy’s food note: see also Mama’s Old Receipt Book