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"Oatmeal Cookies" by Ana Ruth Enriques

Oatmeal Cookies

by Ana Ruth Enriques

translated by Jessie Christensen

Today I intensely miss the beauty of autumn. A little less than a month ago, the trees colored the parks and the plazas with their red, orange, and yellow leaves. Their loss felt like a separation after a final embrace from the earth. And then winter arrived.

I cannot endure this dreadful season without you. A cold gust of wind seeps in through the window. Outside, the naked trees tremble nearly as much as I do. Marta came to prepare maté and brought cookies. Although it is three in the afternoon, we are huddled around the small table in the kitchen; there have been fewer naps in the sun since you left.

She reminds me so much of you! Sometimes her care for me makes me angry. But I am happy that she has brought back your oatmeal cookies…and this time she followed the recipe so well! Each bite is a window, a small break in the gray ice that surrounds me. I feel like I can see you again, in front of the oven, pulling out a pan of crunchy cookies. The warm scent of freshly toasted oatmeal hits me in the face, and with it I can feel the coming of spring.

This piece was published in 2023 as part of the Around the World in Mormon Literature contest by the Mormon Lit Lab. Sign up for our newsletter for future updates.

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