The Butter Story

My grandfather had a general store in the prairies back in the 'good old days'. There was a story, one of many, about a butter incident that has always intrigued me. Apparently a customer from the farm, one of many, would supply my grandfather with butter, milk, cream, and eggs and would exchange those products for such things as flour, sugar, salt, etc. . One day she brought in a batch of butter, but told my grandfather that she actually needed it for herself. The reason she was bringing it in was because a mouse had dropped into the churn and although she fished it out and the butter was perfectly clean, she was horrified by the thought of eating it herself, even though she was sure it was just fine. She pleaded with my grandfather to simply exchange it for other butter that he might have in stock. He gave her his business man's smile and assured her that he could accommodate her wishes. He disappeared to the back of his store, re-packaged the ladies butter, and brought it back out to her. With eternal gratitude, she clutched her 'new' butter and scurried off home.    

Now, fast forward to Saturday afternoon. While visiting with my father in the care home, he got a visitor that I had never met. We introduced ourselves and I asked what his connection to my father was. He told me that he grew up in the same area as my dad did, and indeed he knew my dad's family. Then he told me how his mother used to bring butter to my grandfather in exchange for other grocery items. Of course, that triggered a question. After relating the butter story to him, I asked if he thought there was even a remote possibility that his mother could have been that woman. He said he doubted it because his mom was sharp. I let him think that, and did not challenge him. After all, how would she know she had been duped. As sharp as she was, I believe my grandfather was even more clever. Besides, these stories lose their intrigue when the mystery is solved.