Cookies (Rolf Olson)

Coming through the back door, the smell
Of fresh molasses cookies cast its spell
On my brother and me home from school.
Mom had dozens in the kitchen to cool.

We knew the ones done to a perfect turn
Were for guests and neighbors, not ours to earn,
Ask for, or sneak when we came through the door,
But even the burned ones had us asking for more.

They say hope springs eternal in the human breast;
I think that hope is a thing hungry kids know best.
The Christmas cookies for guests and relations
Would be ours too during Christmas Eve celebrations.

So while all of the many calendar pages have turned,
Hope is a thing for which we all have yearned.
Molasses cookies, frosted with white sugar icing,
Both real and in memory will always be enticing.

So here’s hoping that Hope comes this Advent to you
And that you sense our Lord’s blessings all year through.