ImageImagination seems to be a dying faculty among children these days. Their entertainment comes ready made. Video games, TV, and the Internet provide what earlier generations of kids once created themselves.

When my sister Diane learned how to make Chicken Noodle soup, she and I would pretend that the stove was the control panel of our space ship. As the soup simmered, we made up imaginary perils and pretended to turn the knobs of the chrome-topped appliance. Once the soup was ready, we pretended we had landed on Mars. Then Mom dished out our lunch.

I forget who came up with the idea but we drank the soup through plastic straws. One of us children discovered that if a noodle was sucked up the straw, it made a funny noise. This resulted in both of us laughing hysterically. Mom rebuked us for making a mess but she didn’t confiscate our straws.

It’s a shame Mom gave away that gas stove. It was a beautiful appliance. I could have used it when I moved to my present house too. I suspect such a stove would be worth a fair bit to a collector of fifties-era appliances. For me, the pleasant memories of childhood fun would be enough value.

Though I haven’t written about my early years in a book as of yet, I did write about being sent to a school for the blind in Vancouver, British Columbia. Deliverance from Jericho: Six Years in a Blind School and my debut memoir are available from the Bruce Atchison’s books page. My How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity e-book and paperback are on sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Virtual Bookworm Publishers.


Author: bruce Atchison - author

I'm a legally-blind freelance writer as well as the author of three memoirs and scores of articles. Contact me for details.


  1. The first apartment I lived in with my buddy had a gas stove. It looked as old as the hills, with a flat top portion on it for cooking. The stove was actually used for heating the apartment. Dual purpose or what?
    Nice post.

  2. Gas stoves make me nervous. When I was single, one apartment where I lived had a gas stove. One day, I smelled gas so I called the power company to check it out. When the guy came, he said it was okay, but I asked him to disconnect it since I wasn’t using it.

    The gas stove Bill and I had in the first house where we lived also smelled, but Bill wasn’t concerned. In fact, with no vision at all, he cooked on it without misshap. When I bought the house where I’m living now, it had a gas stove, but I bought an electric one from the local power company, paying for it in monthly installments that were included in my bills. I feel safer cooking with electricity, but I’m glad you and your sister had fun eating chicken noodle soup on Mars.

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