Heathens!! That's what our great grandmother called my sister and I, and I don't think she meant it too kindly. Of course, she could have been referring to the Indian side of our ancestry, but somehow I think she's was talking about the fact that we were just plain wild and undisciplined. No one had taken the time to give us any guidance concerning our behavior, and we had never been in one place long enough to get any schooling. My sister went to school for a short time when we were in Texas , during the recovery from my accident. But me? No, I hadn't gone to school yet, but I was about to and my sister and I were about to learn about the board of education on our behinds.
Let me describe my great grandmother to you. She was a small woman who wore the old prairie bonnets, long dresses with long aprons and big pockets, with work boots. She was as tough as the day was long, but oh how we came to love her! The farm had no running water, only a well, no electricity or any modern conveniences, and the outhouse was at the back of the pasture. My great grandmother and great grandfather raised their own garden and their own cows. They milked, and churned butter, canned their own foods, and did their own sewing. Everything!, and my sister and I thought we had landed in paradise!
However, we were about to get a crash course in the rules of the farm. Great grandmother's main rule was that breakfast was served at the crack of dawn and supper came when the sun went down. If you missed either one, too bad for you. The kitchen was closed! Her next rule was: " You little heathens stay out of my hen house!" If we violated that one, which we couldn't resist every once in a while, the consequences from her were bad.
Now my great grandfather, he was another story completely. Every day would find him in his overalls and boots , going out to do whatever was needed on the farm for that day. He was an old softie , as gentle as granny was tough. My sister and I spent that short year or so wandering the backwoods pines of that old farm, picking flowers, and setting trails to the other farms in the area. We would rise up in the mornings, put on the shorts that granny made from the cloth flour sacks that she saved, and off to the woods we'd go, usually until it began getting dark. If great grandfather was around , he'd stand us underneath the pump in the yard to wash off all the dirt of the forest and then he'd feed us..If we came in late, many a time my sister and I sat at that old hand crafted table in the kitchen while he fired up the wood stove and cooked our favorite, slices of fried sweet potato. Life was good for a while. It was the happiest of times for us.
On the days we knew it was Sunday, at times my sister and I would take the trail through the woods and up the hill to the little old church there and listen to beautiful music coming from inside. It was there that we learned that old song,: Do Lord , oh , Do Lord, Do remember me. This little song was one that my sister and I used many , many, times in the years ahead to lift our spirits when we felt sad and helpless.
We had learned to listen to what the adults around us were saying. We eavesdropped on all conversations. It was a habit we had gotten into because we never knew when our circumstances would change and we wouldn't have any warning at all. So we listened. We'd hide under the porch outside in the evenings when granny and great grandpa would be rocking and talking about their day and we'd listen. Granny dipped snuff, and there were times that she'd spit, SPLAT! aiming at the cracks between the boards on the porch floor, and it'd land right in the top of our head. We wondered if she knew we were under the porch there.
Sometimes, when all the work was done, neighbors would come in the evening . My aunt would bring out her guitar, someone else the fiddle, another the harmonica and the spoons.., and music would fill the air!! We didn't really mind the switchings. We were learning to behave ourselves a little better and even after it was over, we knew that granny loved us anyway. We were happy . There were times when it was cool and the sun went down, that great grandpa would fire up the fireplace and granny would sit in her rocker there in front of it and my sister and I would help her take down her long, long hair that braided and coiled underneath that old bonnet. We loved to brush it and watch it lay on the floor at the bottom. All the years and colors of her life were right there in all that hair as it faded from the jet black of her youth into the grays and white of her old age. Yes, this was the best of life for my sister and I.
However, change was in the air again.
It was towards the end of that year when we learned that our father had been released from prison. The courts had given him custody of my sister and I, and he had gone back to Texas to get a job and arrange for a house so he could come back to Mississippi and pick up my sister and I. We were so excited. It was decided that my sister and I should each have a brand new store bought dress and new shoes for this grand occasion. I chose a yellow dress with red canvas sailor shoes with red and white stripes on the toes. Gorgeous! Great grandma and great grandpa were happy for us but sad also because we would be going. However, they had never had anything but good to say about our father. They liked him. He was a good and kind man with a wonderful sense of humor. They also knew the circumstances of his imprisonment.
The day finally arrived and there was so much anticipation on our part as we waited to see the dad that we loved so much but hadn't seen in over two years. I think most everyone has experienced a time in their lives when you feel the very air around you change and you just know that something is about to happen. This was one of those moments. I felt it and my sister felt it. So we listened.
We tiptoed to the front room where granny and grandpa were sitting in front of the fireplace and peeked around the doorframe to see, part of us hoping it was just that our dad had arrived. Then we heard granny ask grandpa, " How are we gonna tells them girls that their daddy's not coming?" "How are we gonna tell them that he's dead?"
At that point, my sister and I just lost it. We screamed and cried and ran into the room, not caring that they knew we had been eavesdropping . Through their own tears they told us how our father had been on his way to Mississippi with his friend to pick us up and an 18 wheeler had veered into their lane . Our father was dead. That July summer I turned seven, later in September my sister turned nine and that October, our father died. Instead of wearing our new dresses to a celebration, we wore them to our father's funeral. We were numb , I guess is about the best way to describe it. We were cried empty. As my sister and I stood before our daddy's coffin, I remember thinking and asking my sister how they got daddy into that little box. He was too tall to fit in there. I just knew it. He looked so peaceful in sleep but that wonderful smile we both knew, was not there .
In our happiness on the farm, I think we had let our guard down some and when this blow came, we weren't ready for it. We didn't have much time to get ourselves ready for the fight that was about to come. I believe in my heart that's why God kept my sister and I together through all these things. We could eventually lift each other up some way. Do Lord , oh Do Lord, do remember me..............
ISAIAH 43: 2 tells me:
When thou passest through the waters, I WILL BE with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.
What a blessing it would have been to understand this Word then, because that's how we felt .
We felt overwhelmed. The Lord has showed me now, that He was with us even then. My God is Sovereign. He was not caught by surprise as my sister and I were.
PSALM 10:14
You have seen it; yes, you have taken note of trouble and grief and placed them under your control. The victim entrusts himself to you. You alone have been the helper of orphans.
We were sure going to need that help in the months and years yet to come.
To be continued.........
by Shirley B.
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