Tales of Mary's Hearth and Heart.

In a cozy little apartment in Brooklyn NY lived Mary Hutcherson, she had occupied this same space for more than forty years. The house was a three story townhouse made of brick and fronted with a brownstone facade. In New York City, brownstones can be seen everywhere.

This particular house had seen two owners while Mary lived there, the first landlords rented the ground floor apartment to Mary, newly arrived from the Caribbean and eager to begin her new life abroad. After many years, they decided to sell the place and offered it to Mary, it was going for pennies back then. She refused to buy it, we believe that Aunt Mae, as everyone calls her, was just too scared to be a landlady. So new owners purchased it and moved in.

Mary was a part of the package, her glowing references and her warm personality, endeared her to everyone that she met. So she remained a permanent part of the new family. Children were born to the new couple and Mary was there for them, babysitting, tending to their cuts and bruises and being a shoulder to cry on when it was needed, it was needed a lot.

Mary never had children of her own, she remains single to this day, yet her legacy speaks volumes of the innumerable children who will gladly call her mother. Mae is a perfect example of a mother to all who needed one, there is a long list of those whom she selflessly aided and assisted throughout her long life, she is now in her nineties.

What a blessing Mae has been to those who know her. Myself included.

The Hearth.

It is the Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons. All relatives and neighbors know that Aunt Mae is cooking, baking and making the little apartment ready for a deluge of visitors. It is the highlight that culminates the end of the year, no one ever misses it, unless an act of nature prevents movement, and even then they would still try to be there.

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Mary's Cozy Haven where all the relatives jostle for space in her tiny living room. I will endeavor to capture the love and joy which is encapsulated in the life of this wonderful aunt to many of all ages.

Mary, a kind-hearted aunt whose warmth and generosity knew no bounds. Her apartment was modest, with cozy nooks and crannies filled with memories of family gatherings and love. Despite its size, her home was a virtual palace of comfort and joy, especially during the holiday seasons.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were Mary’s favorite times of the year. Her tiny kitchen would come alive with the smells of Christmas cakes and puddings, delicious pies, roasted turkey, and an array of baked goodies that could make anyone’s mouth water. Mae had a magical touch with her cooking; every dish she made was infused with love and care.

As the holidays approached, Mary’s relatives would arrive, one by one, at her doorstep, not sleet nor storm nor snowstorms would deter this holiday fare. . They came from near and far, eager to bask in the warmth of her hospitality. Despite the cramped space, no one ever complained. Instead, they cherished the chance to be together, crammed into Mary’s small living room, where laughter echoed against the walls, upstairs and to the neighbors.

Her doorbell rang constantly, friends dropped off goodies and presents, or just stopped by for a chat. The Xmas tree always overflowed with gifts for those near and far. Mae's relatives had long grown accustomed to the long line of people who came and went and whom they had no inkling of the relationship between Aunt and her 'extended' family.

Mary’s living room was a picture of organized chaos during these gatherings. Children played and giggled as they tried to sneak a taste of her famous cookies. Adults shared stories and caught up on each other's lives, their voices mingling with the soft strains of holiday music playing in the background. The Christmas tree, though not grand in size, stood proudly in the corner, adorned with handmade ornaments that had been passed down through generations.

Every year, Mae would prepare a grand feast. She would wake up at the crack of dawn, her apron tied snugly around her waist, and begin her culinary marathon. Her turkey was always perfectly golden, her mashed potatoes creamy, and her cranberry sauce tangy and sweet. As she cooked, she hummed softly to herself, her heart full of joy at the thought of her loved ones gathered around her table.

Despite the hustle and bustle, Mae always found time to make each family member feel special. She had a knack for remembering everyone’s favorite dish or dessert. For her niece, Nova, it was the pumpkin pie with a dollop of whipped cream. For her nephew, Adan, it was the stuffing, rich with sage and celery. Mary’s thoughtfulness was a bountiful blessing to her love for her family.

As the evening wore on, the small apartment would become a haven of warmth and love. The family would gather around the dining table, their plates piled high with her delicious creations. They would give thanks for their blessings, for the food, and most importantly, for each other. Mary’s eyes would sparkle with happiness as she looked around at the faces she cherished so dearly.

After the meal, the family would retreat to the living room. They would sip on hot cocoa and enjoy slices of Mary’s famous apple pie. The children would fall asleep on the couch, their heads resting on their parents’ laps, while the adults would reminisce about holidays past. The air would be filled with the gentle hum of contentment, a feeling that only Mary’s home could evoke.

No one ever went home until the next day. We would all sleep in various piles of contentment, beds, couches, sleeping bags, floor and any overflow went upstairs to the landlords who were just as much family as we were to Mae. What a joy those days were.

Mary’s small apartment might not have been grand, but it was filled with an abundance of love and joy. Her generosity and kind-heartedness were the true gifts of the season, a reminder that the best things in life are the moments shared with loved ones. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, her home became a sanctuary, where the spirit of family and togetherness thrived. And in those moments, amidst the laughter and the jostling for space, Mary’s heart would swell with gratitude, knowing that she had created a legacy of love that would endure for generations to come.

The passing of the years.

But now Mae has hung up her apron, as she passes the baton to the younger generation. She now resides with family (it was not easy getting her to give up the apartment) and she still plans to return to it at some time (she won't, she can't). But hope keeps her going strong. The cat and dog help a lot.

The fingers can no longer bake the cakes, or baste the turkey for everyone. Oh, but she still does her little bit to help, Mae is quite healthy as she peers into the approach of her not very distant 100 year marker on the distant horizon.. Her memory is not quite what it was, but she does quite well with what she retains.

To Aunt, Grand-aunt, Great-grand aunt, Great-great grand-aunt Mae and more. Happy Holidays. See you soon.