A Day in the Life of Mildred Withers

I am a lower class woman who cooks for the Smith family. I have two slaves that work for me in the kitchen. These slaves don’t belong to me, sadly. I have to wake up early in the morning just to get to the Smith’s house and cook them a small breakfast because they usually don’t eat. I finish making meals for the Smith family very late at night. Even though I get home late, my family is still up and waiting for me to make them a small meal.  I don’t know how many times I hurt myself yesterday. My husband, John had to help me clean up my cuts and burns. I never understood how painful cooking can be.

        Today I woke up and everything seemed different. Mr. Smith told me to get to work extra early today, and so I did. I have never been out this early in the morning. There is almost no one on the street. As I got to work I saw that the house seemed more decorated. The slaves were outside cleaning the house and putting decorations up. The slaves who work for my in the kitchen were sitting in the kitchen waiting for me. I made breakfast as I usually do for the family.

When it was about 8:30 am, the Smith family woke up and came down for the breakfast, though they didn’t eat it. Mr. Smith came up to me and said “Mildred, as you can tell the slaves are outside and getting the house ready,” I politely answered back in a timid tone saying “Yes I do see that. Why are they getting the house ready? It looks outstanding!” Replying in a very cocky tone, he says “Well, tonight we are having the biggest party we have ever thrown. Everyone of the gentry class will be here. Now that means today you will be cooking non stop. I want you to make the best food you have ever made. I do not want my guests to say that the food was horrible. This party is really going to show how our family represents ourselves. Do not ruin this up for us. The slaves are waiting for you, and I don’t smell anything cooking.” I was frightened by his task but I took it, because I couldn’t risk losing my job. “Yes of course sir. I will get right to cooking. Anything you would like in particular?” I asked, showing as much politeness as I can. “No, just make your best dishes. Now get in the kitchen and start cooking!” he said in an aggressive tone.

Thinking to myself as I walking to the kitchen, I weigh the importance of this task. “I can’t mess any of these meals up .I can’t lose my job working for the Smith family.” I wonder out loud. This was how I got my money to feed my family the minuscule, unsatisfying meals. My family always wants me to cook for them.When I get home, the setting in which I work in is so different. When I get back to my house I do not know where half of my cooking supplies are. Matter of fact, I don’t even have any cooking supplies at home. The smells are very different. The scents in my own home are never as wonderful and the ones at the Smith house.

My house usually never has a smell because the foods I use to cook meals are very bland and don’t have a lot of flavor. At the Smith’s house, I smell so many different scents. The ingredients I use to cook at the Smith’s house bring so much flavor and a multitude of scents to the kitchen and table. The product from of food compared to my home cooking and the cooking for the Smith’s is disparate. Everything for the Smith’s had more flavor and colors. All my dishes were much better and more sophisticated for the Smith’s. My meal for my family did not ever leave even a faint smell in the house. The meals I make for my family are never very tasty. I love cooking, even if it means cooking in a kitchen that has no cooking materials and a limited amount of ingredients.