Coffee Colored




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" March 13, 2002 Issue 031302 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com -------------------------------------------------------- By subscription only! Welcome to your next issue of "WRITE 2 THE HEART" You are receiving this FREE newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. ------------------------------------------------------- Do you have a heart-warming story to share with our readers? We are accepting story submissions at this time. Please email your original story to moderator@write2theheart.com ------------------------------------------------------- First time submitter, Debbie Jones, writes about an American favorite, coffee. Coffee always evokes strong memories and feelings. Let me run and grab a fresh cup while I join you in reading about the memories she has captured for us. ---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------- Coffee Colored Memories By: Debbie Jones --------------------------------------------------------- I have a fondness for coffee. I like the way it tastes, I like the way it feels as the wet warmness of it flows down my throat, and I like the heat it puts off as I wrap my hands around a steaming cup. But most of all, I enjoy the aroma of it and the memories it brings. My children think that I'm addicted to caffeine because I drink a lot of coffee, but I don't think so. I could give it up tomorrow if I wanted too. Being a coffee addict is different from being a caffeine addict. Soda has caffeine and the only memory it leaves me with is to remember not to drink it again. It fizzes in my nose and burns my throat when I swallow it. Sipping this potent concoction from a cold metal can is not something I enjoy doing, especially in January. My love for coffee has led to the ownership of quite a few coffee cups. All of these cups bring back cheerful memories when I drink coffee from them. My favorite cups are the ones my family has given me. I have cups with floral designs and Bible verses given to me by my children. There are cups with pictures of different cities that my brother has visited. But the cup I treasure most is the one I keep on my desk at work and drink from everyday. I still remember the warm summer day, thirteen years ago, when my husband bought it for me at a little seaside shop in North Carolina. It's a white cup with the words, "WHAT A GAL" in purple. My earliest memory related to coffee is also one of my favorite childhood memories because it involves my grandparents. One cool spring morning I decided to visit with my grandparents while my mom was still sleeping. My grandparents lived next door and I was extremely fond of them. I was only about four years old at the time and my sister was three. While barefoot and still wearing our matching pink, flannel nightgowns we made the short trip to visit with Nenny and Papa. They weren't at all surprised to see us at the door. We were welcomed in with hugs and kisses and then invited to breakfast, (after a quick phone call to my mom.) I can still remember the soft scrambled eggs, homemade fluffy brown biscuits, and strawberry preserves made from the plump red strawberries that they had grown themselves. As a special treat, Nenny gave us a coffee cup with a crumbled biscuit inside; over this she poured a milk-laden, sweetened coffee mixture. She called this delicious blend "Soaky." The biscuit was warm and saturated with the coffee so it felt good in my stomach on this cool spring day. It was on that day I fell in love with the warmth and aroma of coffee. Now that I'm grown and can drink coffee whenever I desire, I find myself drawn to coffee houses and coffee stores. The aroma of these places stirs within me a desire to stop in and enjoy a cup. For me, coffee has become the prompt that my mind uses to recall pleasant memories of those I love and I believe that is why I am particularly fond of it. Debbie Jones djjones76 @ hotmail.com (You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses.) -------------------------------------------------------- Debbie Jones is the mother of two grown children and one grandson. She and her husband are going to be empty nesters soon. They live in Covington, GA. She wrote this story for an English class that she took a couple of years ago and hopes you enjoy it. --------------------------------------------------------- Rose's story really touched my heart. She has a great love in her heart and is able to help others. May God bless and keep her and her family. Lettie Clark Dear Cheryl, I love Rose's story. Her mother was very special. My Mom used to sit in our kitchen with different ladies from our neighborhood too. I don't remember what they talked about. I do remember one lady was married to a drunk who couldn't hold down a job. Mom bought canned milk for their baby. We didn't have much money, but Mom couldn't stand the thought of the baby not having enough milk. I'm still recovering from our fire on Jan. 7th, and our long stay in the motel afterwards, plus a bad bout with a bronchial infection. Mentally and physically I am a mess! The Service Master people had to clean everything in the main part of the house because of smoke residue. They sent the cleaned stuff back in lots of boxes and bags, and the cleaned clothing on hangars. Stuff piled everywhere. We need to put everything where it belongs, and we haven't made a lot of progress. So much to put away. I'm going to toss a lot of stuff, and we'll take it to Goodwill. I wish I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Poor Willie has had to do almost all of the work. Carpenters completely rebuilt the burned room. It took forever, but now they are nearly finished, with only three doors left to hang. I try not to complain too much, because God blessed us by having us immediately aware there was a fire behind the closed door to my husband's hobby room. If the fire had started at night while we were in bed, we would have lost more than the one room, and possibly our lives. Our cat would have been shut out there, and he would have died. God is good! We still don't know for sure what caused the fire. God Bless, Pat (Pat Lowe has asked for our prayers, she has been struggling with many health problems since the fire that damaged her home.) --------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner I have been blaming poor innocent files for my computer problems, it turns out that the culprit has been a fried circuit on a VGA card. I write this like I know what I am saying, I don't. All that matters to me is that I am up and running and don't have to delete all the pictures we took of family and friends. I hope to catch up on email that collected while the computer was in the shop. God bless Cheryl --------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------- © 2002 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. 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