https://Voice.club - “These cakes look delicious!”
“And too pretty to eat,” I reply, averse to taking them out to the waiting crowd.
My sister Julie and I are in the dining hall of Jesse Lee Children’s Home, helping serve at its Open House. I stand in the kitchen holding a tray laden with fantastic petit fours created by Theresa Lonegan, cook for the Home. The sugary scent of icing pulls me to the array of colors: flowers of reds, purples, and bright yellows accented with green stems all surrounded by fluted borders, or red-white-blue explosions of fireworks.
Normally the dining hall is a gathering place for eating, but on this day excitement reigns. I am chosen to give tours of the buildings and, flaunting a new dress, I proudly guide the guests around, ending in front of the Administration Building for a special presentation.
We stand at the flagpole with family members of Benny Benson, who as a 7th grader at Jesse Lee designed Alaska’s flag. Today his family presents a flag to the Home. A sea breeze blows in off the bay, smelling of salt and fish and causing the newly flown flag to flap crisply. The sun shines from a cloudless sky, the pines and hemlock wave with our salute.
Following the presentation, guests are invited into the dining hall to enjoy Theresa Lonegan’s delectable creations and I am privileged to serve them.
I lift the tray high. My mistake. The tray interferes with my line of sight, and I trip over the door casing, causing the tray and its acclaimed contents to spill across the dining hall floor.
I pick myself up, turn shamefaced away from family and guests, then run into the kitchen to hide and cry. Humiliated, I peek around the cabinet into the dining hall. Julie has cleaned the floor; not all the petit fours were destroyed, some are now on the table being appreciated by guests. There is no raucous laughter, no taunts, no teasing. I wipe my face of tears, then reenter the dining hall, smile, and enjoy the rest of the day.