A Piece of Cake

I had planned to make brown-sugar pound cake, my specialty, for my Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Howell, who had been in my thoughts. But suddenly the idea to bake her a cheesecake popped into mind—a lemon cheesecake.

The recipe called for fresh lemons. I checked my supplies. No lemons, but plenty of brown sugar. A pound cake would be so much easier, I thought.

But again came the nudge: Bake a lemon cheesecake. After a trip to the grocery for lemons, I began the batter. I cut a lemon in half, removed the seeds, squeezed the juice into the creamy mixture and stirred.

When I arrived at Mrs. Howell’s, her husband let me in. “She’ll be happy to see you,” he said. Then he explained Mrs. Howell had broken her leg and was bedridden. “The doctor says she’ll be fine. But she’s frustrated because she can’t get around like she’s used to.”

I walked into the bedroom, carrying my surprise. “I’m so sorry about your leg, Mrs. Howell,” I said. “Maybe this will make you feel better.” As I placed the cake on a table, the tangy scent of fresh lemons wafted through the air. I looked at Mrs. Howell. She was crying.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Know?”

“Today is our wedding anniversary,” she said. “For the past 53 years I’ve baked my husband his favorite thing.” She pointed at the cake. “How did you know it was lemon cheesecake?”