Grandmas molasses cookies

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Summertime, mid 1960's, rural Nova Scotia, Canada. Grammie calls my sister and me into the farmhouse for a treat. We enter and pass by the butter churner sitting in the porch. We have to go across the kitchen to get to where she is, in the pantry. Whew, the kitchen is hot, the wood stove is a blazing getting ready to cook the supper meal, I look to the ladles hanging on the wall by the water pump attached to the sink. The heat makes me feel thirsty. But, quickly I remember that Grammie is waiting to give us a treat. To the pantry I go and there she is, Grammie turns around and I see her hair in a bun, always wearing an apron with those thick brown nylon stockings and tight black shoes. She smiles lovingly as she holds up two molasses cookies, one in each hand. My sister and I each take one, and hungrily bite into it. It is mouth watering. When I think of that memory today, I realize the love that went into making those treats, in a hot summertime kitchen, and I am truly thankful. Does anyone else have any memories tucked away?