A few days earlier all of us women got together to make several pies. That morning, as my sister plugged in the old coffee pot, a sudden flash of light burst through the kitchen. The pot was on fire!
"Flee, flee," I heard my cousin scream as someone dumped the last bucket of water on the old percolator.
We ran out of the house just as the fire department arrived. A couple of suited up firefighters ran into billowing black smoke through the front doorway. One of the men was a friend of my father who drank lots of coffee around our table during the mornings before they would go to work.
The time dragged on until the two firemen walked out of our home. We wanted to know if our Christmas could be saved.
"Well, how bad is it?" I asked.
"Ma'am," said my friend, "I've had your coffee and that pot was the best I ever drank."©A.Nation2017