A Late Graduation
At the age of 55, I finally got my bachelor’s degree and set out to become a substitute teacher. One day, a seventh grader asked if I’d been teaching long.
“Actually, I’m brand-new,” I told him. “I just graduated.”
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A group of our friends from church were planning a picnic, and it sounded like fun.
The only problem was that times had been a bit tight for me, as I was a single mother with four children. What did
I have that we could contribute to the picnic?
Then a thought struck. I could make a cherry pie! A friend had given me a quart of canned cherries that would make a very nice pie filling.
So I prepared the crust, thickened the cherries, and put the pie together. When it came out of the oven, it looked so good and the aroma was wonderful.
At the picnic, my fiance, Stu, was the first to take a bite of my pie. I saw a puzzled look go across his face. Then he began to spit out cherry pits. It had not occurred to me someone would can cherries without pitting them first. How embarrassing!
Well, he married me anyway. And the cherry pie has been an inside joke for the past 48 years.