Although Old Trunks may know more Ruth's than I will mention today, the name is always friendship. The problem is, as I think about it, all the Ruthie's I know have been friendly.
Today I want to focus on three of them; all of them worked in a kitchen whether it be in the school system or at the nursing home.
The first one worked in a second story kitchen of an old junior high school in Lawrence. She couldn't hardly move because of her bad legs, yet she was a take-you-under-her-wing sort of person. Her energy level was low but she did her job as the baker with great flair. She liked bread that was light crusted and next to Edna, her cinnamon rolls were heaven.
The second one worked at Schwegler Elementary School, also in Lawrence. She liked her bread crusted and if any one pulled it out before it was dark enough, she tsk, tsk, tsk. She was a gentle soul, who commanded her own gallery and seemed to have a sense of what everyone was doing, right down to the last bean to be sorted when making chili from scratch. No one was unsupervised at evening events. The children who helped in the kitchen will remember her as a good employer with attention to detail.
Alas, I have just heard about the third cook named Ruthie. She had this shuffle sort of side by side walk when I knew her and always a smile on her face. She was helpful to anyone who pounded on the back door needing yet another cup of thick coffee or pieces of hot toast. Ruth is is making funeral arrangements for herself; she has three weeks to live.
Salute Ruthie's you have in your life. Savor their friendship or is that kinship?