pink bakery boxes

When I was a little girl, there was the occasional Saturday morning that I would wake up and come out to the kitchen and see a big pink box on the counter.  Before name-brand donuts became all the rage, they came in big, pink cardboard boxes.  Remember that?  I wonder now why that was.  Why pink?  Why not turquoise, or yellow or green or purple?  I’m not sure.  But, being a girl and loving the color pink, I certainly never questioned it then. 


The pink box on the counter told me two things.  


First, it told me I would get to have a glazed donut, all warmed up with melted butter on top.  The glaze would be crackly from being heated and the butter would become a salty-sweet bit of heaven as it mixed into the sugary coating.  Joy on a plate.


Second, it told me that my mom’s mom, my Grandma Corry, had come to visit for the morning.  Mom and Dad almost never went and got donuts.  They were a treat we seldom had, unless Grandma came.  She would drive down the mountain from Arrowbear and into Orange County to see her children and grandchildren.  We were luckiest because our house was her first stop, so we got donuts.


Mom, Grandma and I would spend our morning sitting at the dining room table, talking about our lives, our neighbors, the weather, etc.  I would feel grown-up as I listened and memorized how women chat, and laugh and share thoughts with one another.  I would find myself connected to them both because of the time spent at that table.  The screen door and windows by the table would be open, cool California breezes coming in.  We would hear birds and dogs outside, and life felt slow and meaningful. Women form deep connections through many words and  large quantities of calories consumed together.  We are formed by our relationships, and I know I treasured those special Saturdays and the feeling they gave me that time together was important.  I loved how we lingered, no agenda.


I wonder now if I would have sat there had it not been for that sinfully sweet donut.  If the pink bakery box hadn’t lured me into the kitchen, would I have missed out on those moments?  How strategic of my grandmother to bring something to show her love, to make us happy, to draw us near to her.  They say you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.  In my experience, the same applies to children, husbands, friends and babysitters.  Especially babysitters.  You have to sugar them up when you leave them with four crazy children!


When we make life sweet for those we love we draw them to us.  When we make a house a home, full of peace and open windows- where there is time to linger and just “be”, where listening to one another is more important that listening to the TV, or checking our phone or emailing that last email, we build a life that is valuable and lasts through generations.  


You know, now that I think about it, I would like to find some pink boxes of my own.  That way, everyone will know when they see them, that this moment is one that is for keeps.