Grandmother's Pantry and Mine

They served the same purpose,
Though quite different are they,
Grandmother's pantry and mine.

Eager children searched for eats,
For leftovers stored or some other treat,
Like half moons and cookies, a delightful find,
Her cookies were molasses or the ginger kind
Stored in a covered crock with care.
While mine might be sugar, oatmeal or filled
Kept in a box called tupperware.

Shelf upon shelf for storage space
In Grandmother's pantry and mine.
Were her clean, broad shelves of aromatic pine, scoured and scrubbed, till they fairly shone,
Mine were sanded to a finish smooth
Or lined with contact if I choose;

Spicy mince, pumpkin pies made she,
In stoneware pans, browned delightfully.
Now mine are baked in sparkling glass,
It's pyrex for the modern baking lass.

Flour and sugar both you'd find
In Grandmother's pantry and mine.
A barrel of both, she stored at a time
From which she sparingly measured and dipped.
She could only restock from a distant town
When Grandfather made the next long trip.
While mine comes weighed in a ten pound bag;
No need to be skimpy, or without be found.
For tomorrow if need be there is more to be had,
A choice of white, ten x or brown.

Bowls and containers array the shelves
Of Grandmother's pantry and mine.
She had small and large crocks of all kinds
Hand-painted red and blue earthen bowls,
Wooden ones too, butter paddles and molds.
Theses were all needful in Grandmother's day
For mixing and storing the victuals away.
The crocks now have dwindled and seldom are used;
Instead stainless steel for containers we choose,

They take more banking and more abuse.
Food for the family, the most vital ones,
For Grandmother's pantry and mine.

Smoked hams and bacon, the aroma fine
Corn mush and hominy stand next in line.
Rich, yellow egg noodles cut up real thin,
Large loaves of bread wrapped up in linen,

Dried apple dumplings, in molasses a swimmin':
Dry beans and dried corn, salted green beans might be,
Some flat caked of black dried tomatoes you'd see,
Rolled oats and whole wheat, the breakfast roll,
A brown jug of vinegar for the salad bowl,
Sage, parsley, and herbs to season the soup,

Black roasted wheat substituted when coffee ran low,
Meadow and garden tea, a brew that spelled health.
Yes, Grandmother's pantry stored abundance of wealth.
It took planning and toil, both early and late
To stock Grandmother's pantry and mine.
She had no food pre-cooked, or mixes of cake,
Which promise no mess and saving of time.
Now coffee is instant, or tea if you please

Jello and puddings, ready mixed cottage cheese,
Sliced bread within wrappers, prepared food in ti,
Ready to eat breakfast in boxes come in,
Minute hot cereal, long cooking outdated,

Meat and a bun that need not be heated,
A pop out biscuit, a "just brown" roll.
A barbecued chicken, cut up or whole;

We have come a far way since Grandmother's days.
Where the time is we save, I wonder always.

If Grandmother could visit my pantry today,
Would she think it's too much too fine diplay?
Or would she feel sorry for experience I miss?
And the rib-sticking, healthy food she would dish?
The boxes and plastic that keep my shelves cluttered
Would they only annoy her, would she a smile smother?

Would she find any use that's essential to me?
Or shake her head sadly and be glad she was free
From so many "knick-knacks" and gadgets handy,
I don't know the answers, I can only guess.

It's evident her labors, God truly did bless,
As He for her pantry provided in her time,
So also He provided for the one I call mine.