When we moved into our new home, I took a moment over a hot cup of tea and a view of our homestead to rest my tired feet and reflect what it means to move - all the change, excitement, hope . . . glancing around at all that still had to be done, my eyes rested on this cookbook lying near the top of an open yet-to-be-unpacked box. It was a gift from my grandmother, a well used and loved book that I have seen her use on many occasion. I used it now and then for shortbread, but hadn't taken time to really look at it, consider all its undiscovered treasures, and appreciate the true value of this gift.
When my own daughter breezed into the kitchen, it occured to me that four generations were represented right there in my kitchen, with another cookbook my mom had made me with recipes for all the meals I loved to eat while growing up, a recipe book I often leaned on for family favorites, and a recipe book my daughter had received (her first one) for Christmas. What a wonderful gift, and a special heritage these books would become for the younger members of our family one day.