What I'm Reading

     I was the kid who got excited when the teacher announced it was time for Drop Everything And Read.  Here are two books I just finished that I think you will fall into.  

     I loved A Fall of Marigolds,  by Susan Meissner.  A beautiful scarf, passed down through the generations, connects two women who learn that the weight of the world is made bearable by the love we give away....
     September 1911. On Ellis Island in New York Harbor, nurse Clara Wood cannot face returning to Manhattan, where the man she loved fell to his death in the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire. Then, while caring for a fevered immigrant whose own loss mirrors hers, she becomes intrigued by a name embroidered onto the scarf he carries…and finds herself caught in a dilemma that compels her to confront the truth about the assumptions she’s made. Will what she learns devastate her or free her?
     September 2011. On Manhattan’s Upper West Side, widow Taryn Michaels has convinced herself that she is living fully, working in a charming specialty fabric store and raising her daughter alone. Then a long-lost photograph appears in a national magazine, and she is forced to relive the terrible day her husband died in the collapse of the World Trade Towers…the same day a stranger reached out and saved her. Will a chance reconnection and a century-old scarf open Taryn’s eyes to the larger forces at work in her life?
     This was my first experience with Susan Meissner.  She is an author I will be reading again.

     Let's All Be Brave: Living Life with Everything You Have, by Annie Downs  is wonderful.  I think Annie and I could be friends.  Annie Downs shares her journey toward bravery with honesty and humor. Using wonderful stories from her own life, contemporary real-life examples, and fascinating historical and biblical references, Annie encourages readers to grab hold of the brave life that they desperately desire.  John Piper said, "Books don't change people; paragraphs do, sometimes even sentences."  Let's All Be Brave is full of those sentences.
     Annie Downs also wrote, Speak Love: Making Our Words Matter.  A book of encouragement to use your words to build people up, not tear them down.  To speak love, healing, and hope into peoples lives.  It was a blessing to read.  It makes you aware that what you say and how you say it are truly important.
     Name the last great book you read in the comments.  I would love to see your recommendations.

Black and White Cookies

     As we are preparing for a move to Low Country, South Carolina, we are embracing everything New York.  Patty made these Black and White Cookies for her friends over the weekend.
     Black and White Cookies are soft, cake-like cookies, traditionally iced with half chocolate icing and half vanilla icing.  Black and White’s can be found all over New York City, in Grand Central station and in the New York deli’s.  They remain an unofficial symbol of New York.  Traditional cookies have a mild lemon flavor.  Patty, my baker, prefers almond extract over the lemon.

Patty’s Black and White Cookies

Ingredients:

Cake

• 4 cups cake flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup softened unsalted butter
• 1 3/4 cups sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon (Traditional)  OR 1/2 teaspoon almond extract (Patty)
• 4 egg whites
• 3/4 cups milk

Icing

• 6 cups confectioners’ sugar
• 9 tablespoons milk (more if needed)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons of vanilla extract (Traditional)  OR 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1/2 teaspoon almond extract (Patty)
• 4 tablespoons cocoa powder

How to:

1. Preheat oven to 375.  Grease several cookie sheets
2. Sift flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium bowl.  Set aside.
3. With your mixer, beat butter until smooth.  Add sugar and cream the butter and sugar on medium-high speed until it is almost white in color and the texture is fluffy.
4. Add the extracts, the egg whites - one at a time.  Mix as you add each ingredient.
5. Add a third of the flour mixture and 1/4 cup of the milk.  Mix until just combined.  Repeat two times.
6. Drop 1/4 cup sized balls of dough onto the cookie sheets about 5 inches apart.  Wet a spatula with water.  Spread each ball into a 3 inch circle.  Smooth the surface with the spatula.
7. Bake for 8-10 minutes.  Edges should be just turning gold.  Let cookies cool on sheets as they come out of the oven.

Icing:

1. Mix the confectioners’ sugar, milk and extract(s) in a bowl until smooth.  Put half of the icing in another bowl and add the cocoa powder.  Mix until smooth.
2. Ice the cooled cookies on a wire rack.  Patty suggests laying a piece of wax paper under the wire rack to catch the drips.  If you are icing the cookies half white and half black, draw a straight line across the diameter of each cookie to use as an icing guide.  Another option, is to be creative and make designs.  Let the iced cookies set for 30 minutes on the wire rack in order to set the icing.  

     This recipe yield about 2 dozen cookies.  Cookies should be stored in an airtight container, layered between wax paper.  Cookies will last for up to 3 days.   Well, not in our house, but in theory, they last for 3 days.
     In the comments, tell me where you had your first black and white cookie.  I had mine in Grand Central Station with my Grandmother as a child.

Cinderella

     Twenty one years ago, my friend Janie  asked me to pray for her neighbor, Lori, who had just given birth to her fourth son.  As the mother of three boys the same ages as Lori’s first three, I understood completely why she needed prayer.  Shortly afterwards, at a church potluck, Pat and I met Lori and Denis and the four of us became close friends.
     God has a sense of humor.  The Lori and I who did not know each other, had married the man of our dreams on the same day, honeymooned in Disney World in the same hotel, had mother-in-laws named Florence, and gave birth to sons, and only sons, in fairly rapid succession.  The only way for either of us to have a daughter, was for me to adopt our Patty.  Our boys played soccer together.  Lori’s were the talented ones, mine, unfortunately, had their mother’s athletic prowess.
     Over camping trips, shoe shopping, family dinners, celebrations, weddings, and hospital visits, our lives and hearts have been knit together with love.

Keke Palmer was Cinderella and Sherri Shepherd the Wicked Stepmother.

     Lori and I were even born just three days apart.  Each year we celebrate our birthdays together.  It has been harder since we lost Denis three years ago right before Lori’s birthday.
     Last week, Lori and I went to see the Broadway musical Cinderella.  The music was by Rogers and Hammerstein, which means the songs were the ones that we remembered from childhood.  Cinderella was a movie that came on once a year starring Leslie Ann Warren.  I remember, my wonderful teacher assigned it as homework.  It was the best homework ever!  Oh, how I loved that movie.
     Lori and I were transported to France in the days of Princes, Fairy Godmothers, Ball Gowns, sparkly shoes, white horses, and Royal Banquets.  It was magical when Cinderella’s rags changed into a sparkly white poofy tulle gown complete with tiara and updo before our very eyes.  Lori and I were amazed. We could not figure out how it was done.
     I was once a freckle-faced, tinsel toothed Cinderella rescued by a young prince named Jack.  You can read the fairytale Embracing Your Cinderella, The Ball, and Midnight.
     The story of Cinderella is something everyone can relate to.  Feeling alone and unworthy, working hard for people who just don’t appreciate you, the monotony of doing the same things day after day, being treated like a servant instead of the child of a King.
     But God gives us beauty for ashes.
    In Bible times it was a custom for people to, like Cinderella, sit in ashes during times of great mourning or difficulty.  But the scripture says that God will take our difficult, depressing situation and give us beauty.  He will pick us up out of the ash pile in life and make something beautiful out of us.  He will wrap us in the white robe of salvation.

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True.  With justice he judges and makes war.  His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.  The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean…. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written:  King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  ~Revelation 19:11-16

       I pray for all of you a true fairy tale ending.  May you marry the Son of the King.  I will see you at the Banquet.

Cake Boss Cafe, Times Square

      Life is a little bit sweeter in New York City.  The Cake Boss Cafe has arrived in Times Square on 42nd Street and 8th Avenue.  It was a treat to visit.  The Cake Boss Cafe storefront is much larger than Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken, New Jersey.  We were there on a busy Saturday morning, but happy customer's were being served quickly.
     You can read about our trip to the original Carlo's Bakery with our aspiring baker, Patty, here.

     Cake Boss Cafe was a piece of cake to get to and there wasn't a wait to get inside to see all of the deliciousness.

      Here is a tip:  There is a ticket dispenser by the front door.  Be sure to grab one!  You'll be served by number.  We were fortunate to see Mary working the counter in Hoboken, but we did not see any family members today.

     In addition to the fondant frenzy of cakes, cupcakes, and sweets galore the Cake Boss Cafe offers fun souvenirs.  There are shirts, mugs, and the most adorable little Buddy bobble heads.

      The store features a huge bobble head of Buddy himself.  Behind me you can see part of the huge TV mosaic playing TLC's Cake Boss series.

     Next time, we will come back to visit the CakeBoss Cafe with the kids!  They will love it!  Get your cake on!

Buddy Valastro has no idea who I am.  I did not receive even a crumb for the post.  I just wanted to share for Cake Boss fans everywhere.

Holy Rain Gear, Batman!

 The true crimefighter always carries everything he needs in his utility belt...even an umbrella!

New York Public Library

"Libraries are the memory of humankind, irreplaceable repositories of documents of human thought and action." ~ The New York Public Library

     Have you ever wondered what the inside of the New York Public Library looks like?  It is amazing!  The photos do not even begin to do it justice.

     The Rose Main Reading Room.

A gorgeous ceiling mural.

     Artwork and murals everywhere.

     Lanterns, woodwork, sculptures, and beautiful marble.

A Gutenberg Bible.

     What book are you reading?  I just finished Gone Girl, by Gillian Flynn and started Matched by Ally Condle.

Second Opinion

      If you are just stopping in, this is the thirteenth post in my 31 Day Series:  I Wear Pink.  Join me as I share my breast cancer journey.  You can find the previous posts here. 

Day 13:

     Pat and I took the train into the city on the day of my appointment at Memorial Sloan Kettering.  I had all of my images, tests, blood work, and every little thing that I thought they might want to take a look at.  We found a taxi and were delivered to the hospital.  After completing the required paperwork,  we sat down in the very busy waiting area.  There were couches and little chairs arranged into conversation areas.  

      We hadn't been there long when a woman arrived sobbing.  She had her husband and a girlfriend with her.  Of course, the trio sat next to us.  Her companions tried to talk to her, she however refused to be comforted.  She continued to cry and cry.  Eventually, Pat leaned over to her husband.  "What are you in for?"  he whispered.   I tried to shush Pat telling him it isn't polite to ask people questions in a hospital.

     The woman's husband turned from the two women with a look of relief.  He shared that his wife had been called back for more mammogram images.  Pat, now the expert on mammography, assured him that many women get called back every day.  Most of the time it turns out to be nothing.   He nodded reassuringly.  

     The man turned to his wife and told her the good news.  She did not look impressed.  In fact, she continued to wail.  So he turned back to Pat and returned the question, "What are you in for?"  

     That was when Pat began to understand the wisdom of why it isn't polite to ask questions in a hospital.  "Well," Pat stammered, "My wife has just been diagnosed with breast cancer.  We're here for a second opinion."

     Abruptly, the crying woman stopped crying.  "You have breast cancer?  How do you know?  What will you do?"  Three sets of eyes focused on my chest.

     I tried to explain how I knew as gently as I could.  I didn't want her to start crying again.   I assured her that women were called back for additional images and that usually it wasn't anything to be concerned about.  If in fact it was cancer, finding it early by a mammogram, was the best thing.  I'm not sure that she was convinced, but she had stopped sobbing.  When I was called in to see the doctor, she rested her head on her friends shoulder.  I'm not sure why she was placed in my path, but I do pray for her still.

     The doctor and his intern looked at my images and reports. They spoke together in low voices.  Pat had come in to the exam room with me.  He sat quietly in a corner.  Then the the doctor began his examination.  Let me just say that it was incredibly awkward for me for the two men to be examining me while my husband sat and watched.  The doctor and the intern spoke over me.  They both felt for the tumor, but said that they couldn't feel it.  The central location of the tumor and that it was up against the chest wall made it impossible to detect.  While examining me they had almost forgotten that I was there.  The doctor said to the intern,  "She has really lumpy breasts."

     "Lumpy!  I always thought they were firm!"  I piped up startling both of them.   

     Finally, the doctor summed up his findings.  He drew me a little picture of the location of the tumor. He laid out exactly the same treatment list that the local doctor had shared.  He suggested that traveling after surgery would not be comfortable and that I should consider going to the hospital near my home.  He also said that he knew the local doctor by reputation and that I would be "just fine with her."   He praised the radiologist for finding the tumor.  Once again I was told that he had made a "good call."  

     Pat and I were relieved.  The suggested treatment had been confirmed.  The doctor at Sloan had endorsed the doctor close to home.   We had our answers.  

Source

     I made Pat take me out to lunch at Pershing Square, a restaurant just outside of Grand Central Station.  I had the Maine lobster roll.  It was delicious.  Three years later, Pat still hasn't gotten over paying $24.00 for a sandwich on a hot dog bun.  He did, however,  enjoy his hamburger.

Wordless Wednesday: New York Public Library

     And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.  ~Revelation 5:5      

Buying Cookies in Grand Central Station

      One of the items on my "Wishing & Hoping" list is was to "Buy cookies at Grand Central Station."   Connor and I had an appointment in the city this morning and had just enough time to stop at Zaro's Bakery.  Oh, yum.

     I thought the yellow taxi cookies were adorable.   I suggested chocolate chip, chinese chocolate drop, linzer tart, almond, and short bread.   Connor, the chief cookie connoisseur  of our house, had other ideas.

      Connor rapidly honed in on the black and white cookies.  We left Zaro's with a box of delicious cookies to bring home to the family.

     Hmmmmm.  After looking closely at this picture, maybe I'll add buy a cake at Grand Central Station to the list.

Grace

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.  ~Ephesians 8-9 

    The photo is of the Grace building in New York City.  It is one of my favorite buildings in the city.  Grace was new when I first saw it in the late 70’s.  I still love it’s graceful white curve up to the sky.  On one of our trips into the city this summer I snapped these pictures of Grace.  The building itself has nothing to do with the following story, but grace does.

      Fiorello LaGuardia was the mayor of New York City during the worst days of the Great Depression and all of World War II.  LaGuardia was called “the Little Flower” by many New Yorkers because he was only five foot two and always wore a carnation in his lapel. He was a colorful character who used to ride the New York City fire trucks, raid speakeasies with the police department, take entire orphanages to baseball games, and whenever the New York newspapers were on strike, would go on the radio, TV hadn’t been invented yet, and read the Sunday comics to the kids.

     A story is told about Mayor LaGuardia.  One bitterly cold night in January of 1935, the mayor turned up at a night court that served the poorest ward in the city. Mayor LaGuardia dismissed the judge for the evening and took over the bench himself.
   A tattered old woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She explained to LaGuardia that her daughter’s husband had deserted them, her daughter was sick, and her two grandchildren were starving.
     But the shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused to drop the charges. “It’s a real bad neighborhood, your Honor.  She’s got to be punished to teach other people around here a lesson,” he insisted.
     LaGuardia sighed. He turned to the woman and said, “I’ve got to punish you. The law makes no exceptions – ten dollars or ten days in jail.” But even as he pronounced her sentence, the mayor was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a bill and tossed it into his hat saying, “Here is the ten dollar fine which I now remit; and furthermore I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a town where a person has to steal bread so that her grandchildren can eat. Bailiff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant.”
     The following day the New York City newspapers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered, but grateful, lady who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren.  Fifty cents of that amount was contributed by the red-faced shopkeeper, while some seventy petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York policemen, each of whom had just paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.
    While the woman was in a desperate situation she had broken the law for which she was to be punished.  She admitted her theft.  She did not pretend she didn’t do it.  Instead of the judgement she could have gotten, she received grace. Not only did Mayor LaGuardia pay the fine for her, he also provided for her future.  The gift was freely given, merciful, and more than she deserved.  It was the action of grace.

    Consider the shopkeeper:  He had something stolen from him.  It is not always easy to extend forgiveness to someone who has wronged us.  The shopkeeper wanted her to pay the price for her crime.  The shopkeeper was afraid that if he forgave her, he would have to keep on forgiving because others would do the same thing.  Forgiveness can be costly. He was unwilling to risk it.  Proverbs 18:19 says, “An offended brother is more unyielding than a fortified city, and disputes are like the barred gates of a citadel.”  But failure to forgive comes with a price, too, as the shopkeeper quickly discovered.
    Jesus set aside His crown, took off His royal robes, and choose to be born in a barn.  To grow and walk this earth for a time.  To teach, to forgive, to heal, to love, then to be betrayed by the kiss of a friend to a cruel death.  Not for His sin, but for mine.  That is the action of grace.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, 
 for his compassions never fail.  

They are new every morning;
  great is your faithfulness.  

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; 
 therefore I will wait for him.” 

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
  to the one who seeks him;  

it is good to wait quietly 
for the salvation of the Lord. 

  ~Lamentations 3:22- 26

        How has grace set you free?

Day Trip: New York City

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.  ~Isaiah 55:8-9

In Grand Central.  Patty, Anthony, James, Nina and in front, Connor.

     My son, James, and his wife, Nina came to visit from their home in Georgia.  I enjoyed having them with us.  I miss them terribly because they are so far away.
     We took a trip into New York City to see the sights.  We go into the city about four or five times a year, but we had never ridden on one of those double decker sightseeing buses.   There is just so much to see from up there.  Riders were cautioned to remain seated as anyone foolish enough to stand could be struck by traffic lights or tree branches.

      We listened to the commentary from the guides about the history of different areas and things to see as we traveled about.  We saw the Empire State Building, Ground Zero, the South Street Seaport, and Times Square.  Children splashed in fountains and played in small parks.  We visited street vendors and stores.

Connor was thrilled to visit a three story MacDonald’s in China Town

Street Performers with musical instruments they made out of found items.  They were very talented.  

The boys bought baseball caps at the South Street Seaport.    

      I was reminded of my first time visiting New York when I was eighteen.  My friend Linda was going to nursing school at Beth Israel Hospital and had a tiny apartment nearby.    Linda met me at Grand Central because she knew that I was too country to come to her.  I walked through Grand Central looking up at the night sky depicted on its high ceilings.  When we reached the streets I continued to gaze up in wonder at the tall buildings.  Yokel that I was, I practically walked into people I was so busy looking up.  Linda complained, “Donna, stop looking up like that.  You look like a tourist!”

     I have to confess, although I have been to the city many times since then, I still look like a tourist.   I am enchanted with the towering buildings and the people rushing here and there.  So many people and God loves every single one.

Corner of Broadway and Times Square

     We too are tourists, pilgrims, sojourners passing through a land that is not our home.  We look out for one another, pray for each other, and splash in fountains of praise together.  Like Abraham living as a stranger in a strange land.  We are looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. Hebrews 11:10

Brooklyn Bridge

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.
he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;  for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.                ~Psalm 103:8-14