Grandma's Candy Dish.

When I was a kid, there was a clear glass candy dish on my grandmother's dining room table. That candy dish was always in one particular spot on that table, and was only moved to the sideboard when the dining table was set for a Sunday or holiday family dinner. In all the years of my childhood and adulthood, for all the years the family lived in Grandma's house, that same candy dish was always there..... never to be replaced with a newer, better, larger one.

The candy dish (bowl shaped) was round with a flat base... the pattern in the glass was diamonds and half-moon shapes, and Aunt Dolly called it "Depression Glass."  All of us cousins didn't know what that meant in the 1950s and 1960s, but as with everything else in that house, we were careful with it.  Careful to the point that we could all get the lid off of that dish without making a sound, but once we had a piece of candy in our hands, it was just about impossible to put the lid back onto the top of that bowl without making that 'clinking' sound of glass on glass.

Both my grandmother and my Aunt Dolly had perfect hearing. No matter where they were in that big old house, they never missed the sound of that candy dish lid being put back onto the bottom of the bowl. "Who's in that candy dish? You're going to spoil your dinner! I hope you're taking just one piece, not three!"  Every one of the cousins in my generation tried (and tried again) to get the lid off and on that candy dish without making a solitary sound. We all quickly learned how to get the lid off the bowl without making a sound, but we all failed at getting that lid back down silently onto the round bowl.  We all came to the conclusion that it was just impossible, and considered it a fact of life. But that didn't stop us all from trying every time we walked through the dining room when an adult wasn't in sight.

One piece meant just that--- one piece, whether the bowl of that candy dish was filled with M&Ms or with chocolate kisses or miniature Hershey bars. One piece.  Candy corn filled that bowl in the month of October, bright ribbon candy or peppermints were in the bowl for December and January.  Most of the time, it was M&Ms because both Aunt Dolly and my dad just loved the M&M candies.         

Who in the world can take just one M&M? I'll tell you who--- my Aunt Dolly, that's who.  And when she opened up that candy dish and saw the M&Ms, she would look at the colors and choose just one red or one yellow or one brown.  One M&M!  Quite possibly, and most likely, that's why today, at 100 years old, Aunt Dolly is still a size 4.

In my daily travels, I like nothing better than browsing through antique and resale stores, and thrift stores. There are treasures to found in all those places.... and resale-store treasures aren't likely to be one of a thousand, they're more likely to be one or two of a kind. 

A couple of months ago in our local thrift store, I found an exact duplicate of my grandmother's glass candy dish.  Same pattern on the clear Depression Glass (and of course my generation knows what Depression Glass is now)..... and there wasn't a scratch or a chip on either the bowl or the lid of that candy dish.  Could that be possible?  Of course it was possible.... my Aunt Dolly still has that candy dish to this day, and there's not a scratch or a chip on hers either.  Whoever had this particular candy dish took as good care of it as Aunt Dolly and the family always did.

The price on that vintage candy dish was just $2.00.... I would have paid ten times that price without blinking an eye, but the two dollar price made the prize even better because it was such a bargain.  On the way home that afternoon, I bought a bag of Dove chocolates for the candy dish.

I soaked the glass lid and bowl in warm sudsy water..... rinsed it and dried it...... and put that sparkling candy dish on my dining room table.  Not exactly in the same spot as the identical candy dish had been placed on Grandma's table, but awfully close.  Then I filled it with the gold-foil-covered Dove chocolates, put the lid on, and ooohed and aaahed over it.  Aunt Dolly would be proud. I sent my cousin F an eMail to tell her of my special treasure, and we reminisced over the opening and closing of the candy dish on Grandma's table all those years ago.  "Were you ever able to get the lid back on without Aunt Dolly catching you?"     "No way. You?"  

Later that evening after dinner, I decided to take a piece of chocolate from my 'new' candy dish. I walked into the dining room, took one square of the Dove chocolate, and then, without even thinking about it, I found myself trying to replace the lid without making a sound.  Cliiiink went the top glass as it touched the bottom glass...... still impossible to do.  But it made me smile, to think that my mind was still conditioned to try and put the top glass back onto the bottom glass without it making a sound.  This candy dish has brought back so many memories, and in my mind's eye, I can still see all of my cousins as they looked fifty years ago, standing by Grandma's dining room table and trying to silently put the lid back down on Grandma's candy dish.