Light Green Popcorn Balls for Christmas
When I was growing up, my Grandma, bless her heart, was in her 70s, a widow, and had raised 7 children, most of them, by herself. She had over 50 Grand and Great Grandchildren. Not until PBN asked us how we handled gifts from the Grandparents, did it occur to me that Grandma’s gift obligations for birthdays and Christmas for all of those little loved ones amounted to thousands of dollars, and covered virtually every week of the year.
With the constraints of living on a fixed income, and most of her monthly government check heading towards doctors visits, and utilities, life gave Grandma little opportunity to shower her little babies even one gift at Christmas. Because, if you give to one, it’s only fair you give to all. I’m wondering now, how Grandma must have felt to see each child, empty handed, year after year on Christmas and birthdays.
Empty-handed, is probably not an accurate picture. Grandma spent most of her time in her tinny little kitchen making hard-tack candy, popcorn balls, taffy, peanut brittle, thumbprint cookies, and soft butterscotch candies wrapped in waxed paper. The hard-tack candy was the most labor-intensive. The slab of marble, pouring the green, red, yellow hot syrup, and reading that candy thermometer until the temperature was exactly right. And who could forget that little bottle of wintergreen flavoring?
As the youngest of all her grandchildren (not counting the Great Grandchildren), my brother and I seemed to have a soft spot in Grandma’s heart. I know this only because I overheard her, several times, slipping dollars into my Mom’s hands, and say, “get the kids something just from me for Christmas.” (Grandma didn’t drive.) My Mom would always push the money back into Grandma’s hands, as Grandma insisted that Mom “just take it.” As much as I hate to admit it, I’m sure she did that for all of her Grandchildren. Grandma would have loved to have access to the Grandkids Gift Guide, as it would have put so much power in Grandma’s hands, and taken all the guess work out of finding the perfect gift.
Still, Grandma, now that I’ve had time to reflect on what matters most in life, I want you to know that it wasn’t whatever it was Mom picked up at the five-and-dime store, which she and wrapped to put under the tree from you to me. I don’t remember much about whatever toy that could have been. But, your green popcorn balls — those were the best. You made them so big. Their enormous size made it impossible for us to get our teeth around them for one big bite. And the green, that light green color, saturated every single sweet-popped kernel.
Grandma, I know you thought those popcorn balls weren’t enough; that you wanted to give something that we could keep, and hold longer after Christmastide had past. Honestly, Grandma, those popcorn balls that so quickly disappeared in our bellies, is the one gift that I’ve held into my heart for over forty years. Thanks again. Grandma. You gave the best gifts. I miss you, so much.
