Agatha snuggled up to Mutti. They were alone, in the kitchen of the White House. Frau Kuchin had a holiday. “The Boys” had gone adventuring and Sarah was occupied with studying and pleasing her tutors. It was not often that Agatha could be alone with Mutti now, and she savored the time alone together.
“Do you remember Grandma Miskel? She came to Bremerhaven from Poland. She was my grandmother so she would be your great grandmother. She died when you were seven. She spoke Polish, Yiddish, German, and French. She was very industrious.
She would buy lemons at Neumann’s Grocery in the summer when they bought them from ducal residence in Gustrow Palace, to the east of Bremerhaven. Lemons were a real treat. She went every morning and bought as many lemons as Herr Neumann would sell her. She would squeeze fresh lemonade every day until the lemons were no more. She would serve us kids the lemonade in a glass pitcher, heavy as you,” and then Mutti pinched me on the arm. “Grandma Miskel would grate the rinds, dry them in jars with sugar and salt and feed us grandkids candy all winter.”
“At Christmas, she made nut roll and sold it to the goyim. We ate it too because she made extra for us. From the nut roll sales, she gave each of us grandchildren a nickel each week for the rest of the year.”
Grandma Miskel always said, “Be a woman, but be an independent woman.”
“That is the sharpest truth,” said Mutti, as she cracked the walnuts with the flat edge of her thickest knife. I watched her closely, reciting Grandma Miskel’s nut roll recipe in my head so that it would stay there the rest of my life.