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“Maddy, honey,” I heard Jen say from the kitchen. “You need to help him sound it out.”

I remember that Madeline was very young at the time, maybe only five or six. I was sitting at the dining room table and listening as she attempted to teach her younger brother, Harrison, how to read. Bright eyed and interested, he was sitting beside his kindly sister watching and listening.

“How do I do that?” she called back to her mother with an innocence of intent. True to the blossoming character she possesses today, she desperately wanted to see Harrison succeed in the effort, and so she was determined to learn the best method for securing her goal.

“You could show him the sound that each individual letter makes,” Jen suggested.

“How do I do that?” she asked again.

“Which word are you working on?”


“Well, maybe you could do it like this,” Jen said, walking to where the two were sitting where the dining and living rooms met. Crouching and finding the word, she pointed to its first letter. “This is the letter B,” she said. “It makes the buh sound.” Maddy’s eyes were on her, registering every detail of her mother’s impromptu lesson with precision. Jen pointed again, and Harrison followed her finger to the first letter of the word. “Buh, buh, baby,” she said. “What sound does the letter B make, Harry?”

“Buh,” he said proudly.

Maddy’s eyes widened. “Thanks, Momma,” she said. She knew what to do. “Let’s move to a different word, Harrison.”

“Otay,” he said agreeably.

Jen made her way back to the kitchen while Maddy scanned the opposite page, eventually settling on a new word.

“Okay, Harry,” she said, pointing confidently. “Let’s learn this word.” Her little finger pressed to the page. “This is the word ‘car,’” she said. “Do you know what letter it starts with?”

“I doan know,” he said, putting his little hands into the air beside his shoulders. “Wassit?”

“It’s the letter C,” Maddy answered. “We need the letter C to make the word ‘car.’”

“We do?” Harry said, playing his part so that his sister could play hers.

“Yes, we do,” she answered. “So, let’s sound it out. Buh, buh, buh, car.”

Jen looked at me. I looked at Jen. It took immeasurable strength to keep the laughter contained.

Okay, so maybe she missed the mark on that one. It doesn’t change her history as one who rarely complains about anything, is kind-hearted to everyone she meets, is always ready to help, and is an all-around sweet human being. I’m even willing to admit that if it weren’t for Saint Paul’s truthful words in Romans 3 reminding that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, I’d be in danger of heresy as I consider this little girl to be one of the few treading ever-so-closely to sinless.

Not so for the Legacy Blended Canadian Whisky Small Batch edition.

While the nose of this youngling seems cheerful as it promises singed oak and spiced apples, the palate attempts to sound these sensations out, but in the process, reveals a lack of depth. There’s a little bit of the fruit—in syrup form and with a little bit of pepper sprinkled in—and some rather obvious cloves. But they’re soft and sour as opposed to edged and sweet as one might expect.

The finish is medium in length, and thankfully, its contours make the dram worthwhile. The spiced apples are there, but in a short moment, chocolated cherries begin to mingle. These were a nice surprise to an otherwise unexciting dram.

At this point in history, I wonder if the future of the Legacy, an effort from Buffalo Trace and Drew Mayville, will one day prove similar to that of my daughter, Madeline, whose name, when uttered, prompts smiles as well as thoughts of genuine glee from nearly all who know her. I hope so. But admittedly, at this point, I’m concerned that it’s buh, buh, buh, uncertain.