By Nancy Gilbride Casey
My Mom, Ann Kozlina Gilbride, allowed herself few indulgences as we were
growing up. She had a few chocolate vices you could say: chocolate
marshmallow
Pinwheels cookies, Brach's chocolate stars, chocolate-covered peanuts.
These goodies were put up on the higher shelves in the kitchen cupboards,
supposedly away from her children's sticky fingers. When Mom was of a mind to allow us candy, it was
doled out in
careful increments of one or two pieces at a time, to make it last (and
no doubt, to keep our teeth intact!).
But my Mom
loved chocolate-covered cherries. They were one of her favorite
Christmas candies. She bought them every year during the holidays like
clockwork—the
Queen Anne brand, with ten candies to a
rectangular, red box. Ten syrupy, gooey, fruity, chocolatey nuggets of
heaven. If we were lucky, she would share their eye-popping sweetness
with us before they got put out for company.
One year, when I was in my early 20s, I accompanied Mom to a local store
in Eastlake, Ohio, to do some Christmas shopping. It was a time for us
to catch up, chat and to ooh and aah over all the cute Christmas
decorations that she loved so much, while we checked off items on her
list. We filled up a cart with baking goods, little gifts, soda, and
other items, and made our way to the checkout line. We unloaded all the
items, paid the cashier, bundled up against the December cold, and
wheeled the cart out to the parking lot together.
Behind her car, as we unloaded the last of the bags into her trunk, and
readied to take the shopping cart back to the rack, Mom lifted her large
purse from the cart seat.
And there it was: A box of
Queen Anne chocolate-covered cherries which had been buried behind her purse.
And we had not paid for them!
Mom picked the box up. We looked at one another aghast at our mistake.
We were good people. We did not mean to steal them. How could this have
happened? What were we to do?
Without much hesitation, and in a moment I will never forget, Mom said:
"Ah, the hell with it."
And with a flick of her wrist, she tossed the box into the trunk along with our purchases.
I'm sure my jaw dropped, but I wasn't going to argue with her. After
all, it was cold, we were tired, and it was a long walk back to the
store from the parking lot. As we made what felt like a getaway and
drove home, we looked at each other in nervous disbelief, and giggled at
the audacity of our crime. I'm sure we probably checked the rear view
mirrors a few times for flashing red and blue lights as well.
Every Christmas after, when Mom would put out the box of
Queen Anne chocolate-covered
cherries at Christmastime for family gatherings, we would always retell
the story, and laugh and giggle some more about the day Mom became a
thief.
And now, in her honor, I buy a box or two of
Queen Anne chocolate-covered cherries each Christmas, and retell that story to anyone who will listen.
It's a new Christmas tradition.
Until next time...
Originally published 8 December 2019.
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Viva those Queen Anne chocolates and the fun story!
ReplyDeleteI really need to get my yearly box Marian! Haven't found the dark chocolate ones yet. This story always makes me smile, remembering my Mom. Indeed, Viva Queen Anne chocolates!
DeleteWhat a great family memory! Chocolate covered cherries were a favorite of my dad's as well. My mom was a chocolate fan, too, and always had a bag of chocolate chips in a high cupboard for baking. My four siblings and I were under strict orders NOT to open the chocolate chip bag -- and we didn't. But we did check it regularly, and when we finally found it open we helped ourselves. Not until we were adults and told the story did Mom admit that she was the one that finally broke down and opened the bag :-)
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun story and new little tradition to begin! I love Queen Anne's Cordial (choclate covered) Cherries! Haha, most people do not! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Diane. Such a great memory, glad you enjoyed it.
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