|ME AND MY FATHER|
Then, suddenly, I stop on a fall day, only a few months ago, when I discovered the distinct fragrance of Ceylon Cinnamon in my local health food store. I was quite caught off guard as the scent of this particular cinnamon triggered a memory so strong, so powerful, that one could say, I was aromatized!
And poof, like magic, I was transported back in time, landing onto the cinnamon scented years of Canal street in New York City. A time, now long ago, when my father worked down there. A time when we would have rice pudding, just the two of us, at the local diner on West street. A time when my father carried me on his shoulders so that I could see all the magical floats in the Thanksgiving Day Parade. A beautiful time. A time almost now forgotten.
Needless to say, I bought all the cinnamon packets that were on that shelf in my local health food store. Now, everyday since that day with my morning oatmeal I briefly fall back into those tender and ever so sweetly scented with cinnamon times.
So this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the little things, the mundane things, the plain-vanilla, ho-hum cinnamony things that help me to remember, I have always been loved.
Wishing each and every one a very cinnamony scented Thanksgiving!!!