Not Stingy With The Popcorn

When I was a young woman my first boyfriend and I discussed marriage. But his pastor required strange rituals of me to which I could not agree, my parents balked without reason, his parents withdrew in silence, and he broke off with me. That same week his mother fired me from the job that she had gotten for me making caramel corn in a gigantic copper kettle at the entrance to the store that she managed. I had enjoyed making caramel corn in that huge, hot kettle, the fragrances from the oil, popcorn, and sugar as I poured in the ingredients, the clattering sound of the machinery which drew a crowd, and the pleasure that people showed as they took a box of fresh-made caramel corn from my hand. I had failed to marry but I was not stingy with the popcorn.