Editor’s Letter

Each of us had done well that evening. We had recited our Christmas speeches in the crystal clear voices of children who understood we really were celebrating a special birthday. We had sung with an angelic purity that suggested we had seen or could certainly imagine the Christ child lying in the manger.  And now, we were soaring on wings of sugar across the gravel-covered parking lot of Greater Mt. Olive Baptist Church.  At least most of us were.

As we ran happily calling to each other, I fell.  Tore my new white tights and scuffed my shiny black shoes with the pretty little bow. But, it was the hole about the size of a 50-cent piece that scared me. A bloodied knee peeked out, and it looked like I might need at least three wise men to help me explain how I ended up wounded while wearing velvet.

I limped back inside the church where the grown folks and my Aunt Geraldine’s homemade cupcakes were holding court. Anybody who had ever eaten her cupcakes knew they were preferable to three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!   Rumor had it that Santa Claus only stopped in our tiny town so he could load up on Aunt Jerry’s cupcakes.

My mom spotted me as I walked into the church kitchen with unraveling braids, ruined tights, and slight shuffle.  She didn’t seem surprised because my reputation for being a tad clumsy preceded me.  It was the reason momma had enrolled me in tap and ballet classes.  Clearly, I still had a lot to learn.

My mom moved across the room to console me, and I seized on her concern, recognizing this might be my opportunity to have another cupcake or two.  Never has a cupcake been so delicious! I ate until my red dress squeezed me like Spanx.

Aunt Jerry went home to heaven some years ago.  And while I haven’t had a cupcake quite like hers since, I know where to find some good ones.  Jilly’s Cupcakes in Saint Louis is on the list (pictured on this page).  They won Cupcake Wars, need I say more?

It’s been a long time since I chased a friend around a church parking lot at Christmas or any other time.  My parents are now the church elders, and my brother and sister-in-law monitor my niece’s sugar consumption with the vigilance of the TSA. But when it comes to cupcakes, nothing has changed for me.  They are tied to my sweetest memories of this joyous season.

Merry Christmas,