Friday, April 25, 2014

Mother’s Cookie Factory

Ladies working at Mother's Cookies
My Aunt Carrie and Uncle Martin lived on Kennedy Street (click the name Kennedy Street to view the story) for several years, then the federal Government took out their home and hundreds of other buildings to construct the i-880 Nimitz freeway. 

Aunt and Uncle were paid a fair price and purchased another house with a large lot somewhere around 89th Avenue.  Uncle Martin built a small cottage behind his home for his parents and they enjoyed living there for many years.

One day my Aunt called my mother on the phone and told her that the Mother’s Cookie Factory on 81st Avenue sold large bags of broken cookies every Saturday for 25 cents a bag and did she want some.

Mother always baked homemade cookies and we never purchased the expensive store bought kind, but this was an adventure as well as a bargain.

Mother told my brother, sister and me to get into the car and we would see what we could discover.

My Aunt met us at the factory and a long line was already forming as ladies waited for the signal that the cookies were available.

We didn’t go inside the building, because the cookies were sold by a worker at the door.  This method kept the line moving quickly.

My guess was the bag must have weighed close to five pounds and inside were almost whole cookies of oatmeal raisin, taffy sandwich, mini chocolate chip, iced raisin, filled wafer and iced circus animal cookies.

We enjoyed those cookies in our lunches and didn’t mind a bit that they were broken.

Lake Merritt Oakland, California
Thinking back - - as a child, we enjoyed many things besides food that cost little or nothing.

Oakland had many parks and the beautiful Lake Merritt offered a playground and picnic area.  Also next to the Lake we often visited the small museum and art gallery.

May we always give thanks for blessings no matter how small, even for a bag of broken cookies.


  1. Yes, Hazel! There is joy too in small things:)
    Have a blessed Saturday to you!

  2. Good point. The very best things in life that can't be measured are the ones that mean the most. Much wisdom in your words, Hazel. Thanks.


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