My fondest memories of home during my childhood are of
Christmas time. Christmas began early in our house. It began really with baking
the Christmas cake. My mother would get a store of currants, raisins, candied
peel, nutmeg and other spices, and the day of baking the cake was a big day. We
gathered round the table as she mixed the ingredients, and there was a lovely
aroma. When the cake went into the oven we all had to be really quiet, because
we understood that if we made any noise, the cake would fall. It was very
exciting, seeing the cake come out of the oven – and there was that gorgeous
smell.
from The Road Home by Sister Stanislaus Kennedy.
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