During this holiday season I’ve been reminded of some of the traditions and activities associated with Christmas, and one activity that came to my mind was making gingerbread houses. My mom recently worked on a gingerbread house with my nephew Ben, which became a very arduous task, and while she and Ben struggled to get the walls of the house to stand up I remembered my own experience with making a gingerbread house…
Back in my elementary school days I made a gingerbread house…well, technically it was a Graham Cracker house, but otherwise the concept was still the same. I had so much fun making my house and I was so happy with how it had turned out. I had done all of these creative touches, like making a lamppost out of licorice, and I couldn’t wait to bring it home and show it off to my parents.
When I walked home with my “gingerbread” house in tow I remember that I had to cross through a big field (the usual route I took to get home), and when I reached the end of the field I suddenly tripped and fell. I dropped my house and it was destroyed! Devastated, I ran home, crying all the way (what a baby I was, now that I think about that!)
At home I told my mom what happened and then she helped me make a new and improved “gingerbread” house. Looking back on this, I am touched at how kind and helpful my mom was, especially now that I can see just what a pain-in-the-neck process this can be!
A closer look
I remember that I kept my “gingerbread” house in my room for several months, from December ‘85 to Summer ‘86 - not surprisingly, the house began to crumble, literally! The front of the house began to break apart - I guess it was only a matter of time before this property would be condemned (ha, ha!) so I had to throw it away.
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