an elderly friend

Just up our street hardly a block from our house lived a kind old woman and her son—right across the road from the Webbs. The Gobles were welcoming and friendly to us children. Back in those days, children could visit adults in their homes without fear of abuse, and I visited Mrs. Goble frequently. I enjoyed cheering her up. She was always so happy to see me. She obviously enjoyed having company, and I was 4-5 at the time and filled that need wonderfully. As benevolent as that may sound, I admittedly was there for the treats. Sometime during my visit after introductory pleasantries and probing questions about my family, Mrs. Goble brought out the cookies, and I was allowed to take whatever I wanted. Imagine that—a whole tray of sugar cookies, pecan pralines, lemon drops, and shortbread-like Mexican wedding cakes. Actually, I had no idea the actual names of the variety of delicacies. I just remember savoring every bite. She must have known how much I liked the cookies, because she kept them coming as long as I would sit there and visit. And I expect that she knew I never got such a prize all to myself in a house of eight children, so we kept having regular visits for some time, until my mother found out. Then I was gently rebuked not to solicit treats from poor old Mrs. Goble. You would think I would have been crushed, but truth is I was getting too old for this kind of engagement, and I didn’t know how I was going to break it to my elderly friend.

​So it all worked out in the end, but I will always remember with fondness my wonderful visits to Mrs. Goble’s.

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