Ruth was known to get a little sassy at times. Once after Maggie, her mother had just taken the layers of a cake out of the hot wood fired oven, her daughter stooped to smell the fresh baked cake; exaggeratedly sticking her nose almost into the layer and with a big grin on her face exclaiming “ummmh”. At just that moment Ruth’s older brother Myron stepped into the kitchen and cuffed Ruth on the back of the head burying her face in the steaming cake. Ruth jumped back with a scream revealing her rosy red cheeks and nose covered in bits of hot yellow cake. Her mother, overtaken by laughter, but ever mindful of her position of authority, aimed a backhanded swing at her mischievous son, missing her target completely, and slamming her hand against the door jam, breaking her little finger.
Stories of Ruth Bernhardt Miller as remembered by her daughters, Liz Miller and Karen McConnell