BROWN SUGAR

On school days
our breakfast was crunchy cold cereal
eaten while reading the
backs of the boxes.
But on the few occasions when
mom and dad went on vacation,
grandma and grandpa would stay with us.
Those were the mornings when
grandma cooked hot cereal:
creamy white farina.
On top,
she'd put a few clumps of
dark brown sugar
where it would melt and spread.
I'd try to catch a breakaway piece
with each spoonful of cereal,
the sweet brownness of it
mixing with the creamy white stuff,
and the whole thing warming me
like grandma's love.
When mom and dad returned,
we returned to our corn flakes,
and the box of brown sugar went
back on the shelf
to harden into a rocky mass,
awaiting its next call to service.
The thing that brings it
back to me today
is the taste of brown sugar
partly dissolved atop a piece of pie —
my favorite apple crumb pie,
which I've warmed before serving.
The clumps are melting over the walnuts,
lightly glazing the slices of apple.
As I savor each bite,
I experience a pleasure that
goes beyond taste.
I am back in those moments of
grandma's love.
And I'm struck by the thought
that no memories are as powerful as
those evoked by our senses.


© Ellen Azorin