Mom adored my children—as far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set with them, and she didn’t let a single occasion go by without telling them how much she loved them, and showing them how much she loved them. I know that mom loved all her grandchildren, but I really can only speak of the special bond she had with my two—Shane and Erin.
Shane and Erin loved mom right back, with all their hearts; they loved her big hugs and her kisses, her silly stories and her loud laugh. They loved the way she cuddled them and crooned the same lullaby songs to them that she had sung to me when I was a little girl. Even now, my adult children remember not only the words to these special lullabies, but also the order in which the medley was sung.
I had to be in the hospital for surgery on a couple of occasions when Shane and Erin were little, so mom came to stay with them and look after them when their dad was at work. As much as I knew they missed me while I was away, as sick and miserable as I was recuperating from surgery, I felt secure knowing that my children were being fed and clothed and bathed and loved by the same woman who had fed and clothed and bathed and loved me when I was little.
Mom loved to cook for my kids, and she often remarked that Shane and Erin ate anything that was put in front of them; nobody could ever say they were fussy eaters or that they turned their noses up at food. No—they ate dill pickles and grapefruit, green peppers and avocados, peas and green beans and summer squash. They ate meatloaf and roast chicken, ham and potato scallop, mint jelly, tossed salad and coleslaw. They ate everything.
They loved mom’s desserts—Radio Pudding, True-Story Chocolate Upside Down Cake, Rice and Raisins, Deep Apple Pie; and they loved her cookies and squares—Peanut Butter, Oatmeal, Chocolate Chip, Brownies, Rice Krispie Balls; whatever she prepared for them, they loved to eat, and that never ceased to amaze and please her.
Mom and my children were elite members of their very own mutual-admiration-society, sharing a special bond that remained strong right up to mom’s death a few years ago. Shane and Erin know they were blessed to have experienced unqualified love and unfettered devotion by their Grammy MacNeill, and their memories of her will last them a lifetime. What better gift could a grandmother give to her grandchildren?
Today’s recipe is for Chocolate Goblins, a cook-on-the-stove delight that others may know by different names—Frogs, Chocolate Macaroons maybe, but in my family, these drop-cookies have always been called Chocolate Goblins. Before we know it Halloween will be here, with witches and monsters and children dressed up as their favourite characters. Wouldn’t that be a good time to make these cookies for the little ghoulies and ghosties in your family? I think so.
2 cups white sugar
½ cup shortening
½ cup milk
6 Tbsp. cocoa or 2 squares chocolate
Bring ingredients to a boil for a minute or so.
Remove from heat. Add ½ tsp. salt, 2 cups cocoanut, 2 cups oatmeal and vanilla. Drop by teaspoon on waxed paper sheet or spread in pan and cut in square. Enjoy!