Every time I drop a small mound of cookie dough onto a baking sheet, I am instantly transported back to my grandma’s kitchen. Back to the yellow, the chrome, and the tiles of the fifties. Where Fresca was always in the fridge, the crackle of AM talk radio filled the air, and a partially completed crossword puzzle could be found resting on the table.
And it is there that I remember us standing together. My grandma’s feet firmly on the floor while my six-year-old limbs climbed the step stool to a waiting bowl of cookie dough.
I watched as she reached over, handing me the all-powerful spoon followed by a brief how-to lesson. She didn’t hover. She didn’t re-instruct. She just quietly watched my awkward fingers try to remove the dough from the spoon and drop them into straight lines on the tray. As the first sheet neared completion, she waved her hands over my handy work and exclaimed, “Courtney, these are beautiful. So even and nicely placed. You are a professional already.” Her compliment was not earth shattering, nor anywhere near the truth, but to my six-year-old ears, it was magical—a magical assurance that trickles through me every time I bake cookies.
I was reminded of that moment this morning, when completely unexpected and unsolicited, a compliment serendipitously appeared in my inbox. One that could not have been timed any better had I planted it myself. Words that magically seeped into my psyche, giving me renewed strength to press on. Words that reminded me that the a compliment is a gift. A sweet gift we all have the ability to share.
So I ask, what is your cookie dough compliment?
Photo copyright of La Pomme de Portland.