Tell Me A Story

I love stories. I especially love stories told to me by the person who experienced it. I feel I’m invited into a part of them that normally may not come out in a conversation or a moment in their presence.

This happened to me this week. My husband and I went for a drive into the country and decided we would go t0 Lilac Lane Bulk Foods.

I love this store. It is owned and operated by an Amish family. Leonard is the young man you will find in the store most of the time. He is welcoming and friendly and laughs when I tell him something funny.

They have amazing prices on bulk foods from flours to spices and local honey. And when they have fresh baked cinnamon buns, well, let’s just say it’s all I can do not to buy them all and freeze them.

On cloudy days it can be a bit dim inside due to the fact that there are no electric lights. Just windows and I do believe a skylight. A wood burning furnace heats the store in the winter and you can hear the slight sound of a generator powering the small refrigerated section for eggs and cheeses.

This particular day had a sweetness to it. Leonard handed me a flyer to give to a friend of mine who was interested in visiting.

When I read his newsletter I read one of those stories. The warm kind we all have inside of us. A memory, the sweet kind. As I read I pictured vividly bits of his childhood and his home where he is now.

Here is what I read…..

“Have you ever wondered why we chose the name that we did for our store??? Well, when I was a boy, the small farm at Arthur, Illinois where I grew up had lots of old fashioned flowers and shrubs, including pink, lavender and white lilacs They had been there for a long time.

When my family made the move out here to Missouri, 15 years ago, I found it hard to leave the lilacs so I brought 10 cuttings along. Sadly only one survived and it si now doing well at my parent’s place where I planted it.

Five years ago, when visiting the old home place in Illinois, the owner gave me permission to take lilac clippings and so I gladly took 17 of them. This time, much to my surprise, they all survived!!! They are now all in a row bordering the driveway to the store; hence the name “Lilac Lane”….. “

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Isn’t it great to hear of his childhood and fondness for the flowers? And even more special was reading how he was able to bring them back and after perseverance bring them to life. A special memory of his childhood and for his children and eventually for theirs.

Everyone has a story. Those precious memories planted deep inside that pop up when a slight breeze blows or a fragrance of something wonderful drifts by. I know you’re thinking of your stories. I am thinking of mine.

Enjoy!

cate b

 

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8 thoughts on “Tell Me A Story

  1. That is such a tender story Cate– and I’m just wishing I could head down to that little store with you for a box of cinnamon buns! You’re blessed to be in a place with so much “country” all around you. Fun post! xox

  2. beautiful story, beautiful memories for him as well…you’re so right, it’s nice to hear stories like this, it’s as if we’re all sharing a part of his memories…kind of like, him opening his front door and inviting us in for a moment in time…
    so nice of you to share it with all of us, now we get that memory burned into our minds, ahhhhhhhhhh, what a nice feeling…
    thanks for sharing…now, as i sit here sipping my tea, i am smelling the scent of lilacs in my mind! 😉

  3. It’s certainly time for us to make some memory like that here in Delta, Colorado. We have an Amish Bakery and Store here. After almost 4 years here, my kids JUST told us about it!!! I’m afraid Sis, I would probably face the very same temptations you speak of!!
    Loved this, this is what makes life such a blessed journey!

  4. Cate,
    When I was looking through my Reader Recommendations today, your site was one of them that looked warm and inviting. And of course, who doesn’t like pie? So, I stopped in to ready your story today and I am so blessed God pointed me in this direction through the help of WP. I love sharing stories and hearing them too. Everything I have ever seen, heard, tasted, and remembered from my past, has made me the person I am today. I don’t live in the past, but I reflect back and think how blessed I am. I can almost smell the lilacs as I read along. The home I grew up in had beautiful lilac bushes and the fragrance was intoxicating. Blessings to you.

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