ROSE PETALS 06/20/00

Subject: Rose Petals
Date: Tue, 20 Jun 2000 22:01:52 EDT

Sitting in the big chair in the living room, I noticed that a beautiful rose from a dear friend's garden had lost a petal. I left it where it fell, deep coral on the black background of the table. A few whiles later, I noticed another had fallen. For some reason, those two petals made me feel serene and still within the moment. I noticed how each petal was a different shape, the different shades of coral each rendered up for my enjoyment. I found myself enjoying the petals as much as I have the rose.

I pondered the thought of memories, which do not have the life energy of the actual event, but each is beautiful in its own right. This afternoon, I found myself thinking of when Betty and I were young. It was 1930, so I would have been 20 and Betty 18 1/2. The financial security I had grown up with was just a memory. The two of us regularly scoured the Philadelphia Bulletin ("Everyone Reads the Bulletin") want ads. One day, we found what sounded like a great position - a family was looking for a cook and nanny. As we found out when we called to make an appointment, the family lived on Allen's Lane in Chestnut Hill. When the day came for our appointment, Betty and I put on our best bib & tucker and took the trolley (at that time, the two of us and Mother lived in our grandfather’s house in Germantown, not far from Chestnut Hill). It was a bit of a walk from the trolley stop to the Costello’s, but we were so excited it seemed like no distance at all.

The Costellos lived in one of those great big grey stone houses that epitomize the exclusive environs of Chestnut Hill. Both Mr. & Mrs. Costello interviewed us. We were a hit. Mrs. Costello wanted to hire us on the spot, but Mr. Costello pointed out that we were the first of quite a few scheduled appointments and it would be rude to cancel them. We were in quite a bit of suspense for a day or two, when we got the good word - the job was ours. It was a temporary position - their nanny/cook was going to Germany for six months to visit her family.

There were two boys and one little girl. Betty took the role of nanny and I was the cook. The older boy, who was about nine, was named Peter; his brother - I cannot remember his name - was about six. Nanny, the adored baby sister, was almost two.

Things that stand out in my memory include convincing Mrs. Costello that I knew all about cooking, when that was far from the truth. I figured that she had a lot of cookbooks and I could learn. I did! One time, she asked me if I could whip up a lemon meringue pie. "Of course!" Then I did a quick read of the cookbooks to see if I could come up with a recipe. Sure enough, there was a recipe. I was too inexperienced to know how tricky lemon meringue pies can be. I forged forward with the faith of ignorance. After the dinner party, Mrs. Costello proclaimed it the best lemon meringue pie she had ever set fork to. I still have the recipe.

Mrs. Costello, like so many "Hillers," rode every day. Mrs. Costello looked stunning in her riding habit, a real pleasure to behold. She rode with a group of women friends who would get together at one of their houses after the ride. I enjoyed when they came to the house on Allen's Lane, even though it meant I had to pull out all the stops making canapés and such. One day, as I was clearing, I was unusually thirsty and poured a large glass of water from the pitcher of spring water Mrs. Costello always had available at these gatherings for thirsty ladies. I almost gagged and spun around when I took a big gulp - it was straight gin! This was a good two years before they repealed Prohibition.

One day, one of the boys draped himself about me and begged me to tell a story from my own childhood. The children gathered around and I started telling them about some exploit from my youth. Peter stopped me, "Katharine, Betty tells stories better." and went her off to find her. What, I grilled my sister later, did she do to so enchant the children? "Oh," Betty explained, "When you tell the story, you tell they what happened. I embellish it here and there to make it more lively." Well, so much for harboring thoughts of being a good story teller.

My goodness, I could go on & on. Peter Costello standing on top of the refrigerator (they were a lot smaller back then and the motor was on top) with an umbrella, which he expected to waft him safely down to the kitchen floor. Betty going across the room and tripping on something, sending her weaving around the room trying to regain balance, and Nanny calling with delight from her high chair, "Do it again! Do it again!" She thought Betty had done it solely for her enjoyment. So many stories.

Our time came to an end. The children wanted us to stay, but the parents reluctantly pointed out their obligation to their cook/nanny - she went to visit her friends & family with the reassurance that her job would be safe, so safe it had to be.

Thinking of it all, I see Betty and Mr. & Mrs. Costello and the children as clearly as I see the petals.

John is pawing the earth for Elsa to be up and away on their evening walk, so I must say good night & God bless to you all.

Love - Gocky