Once upon a time, many years ago when I was little (around third grade, to be more precise), my mother told me a story about a Kitchen Witch. Her friend had received one as a gift and I didn't know what exactly a "kitchen witch" was, so my mother told me. The Kitchen Witch is a doll, often handmade, that is meant to be a good witch that keeps watch in the kitchen. It is meant to help ensure good food and safety, and to bring good luck.
So fast forward several months later and I was shopping for a birthday gift for my mom, when I just happened to spy, with my little kid eye, a Kitchen Witch in a store. Naturally, I had to buy it. I'm sure I was with my grandparents at the time, because they often took my sister and me shopping when my mom's birthday was near. The kitchen witch was an ugly looking thing, but hey, if she brought good luck I didn't care. So I got it and gave it to my mom and she loved it. She was surprised I'd remembered the story she told me about them.
Fast forward again, to a not-so-enjoyable memory of my mother's passing last year. It was, of course, a very difficult time. A time of grief (that hasn't left me) and loss, but also of memories of times gone by. And one of the first things I thought of when I knew I'd be going to Texas for the funeral...was that kitchen witch.
Mom's kitchen witch was still hanging above the sink in her kitchen--precisely where it had hung in every single kitchen in every home she'd lived in since I gave it to her all those years ago. You can see that she's a bit worse for wear, a bit stained, and a bit...primitive-looking now (even though I gave her the most thorough cleaning that I could), as she hangs in my kitchen window, above the sink, just as Mom had her. And here she will hang, even when we eventually move to "the farm" we're planning to move into in the next few years...every day, until the day that I pass too.
Does she bring good luck? I don't know. But she does bring me the memory of a little girl, buying her mom a birthday present that she cherished until the day she died. And I just thought I'd share her with you today.