Remembering Easter

Thoughts of Easter always make me happy.  When I was a little girl, the day really began on Saturday, because that is when we always had a major egg-dying extravaganza! That was always so much fun!  Layers and layers of newspaper were placed on the kitchen table and hard-cooked eggs were divided between my brother and me.  We had kitchen cups filled with all of the colors or the rainbow. Dipping each egg into the colored liquid, we stretched out the procedure as long as we could, mixing colors and leaving the eggs in the dye much too long.  We usually ended up with multi-colored hands as well as eggs.  My grandmother taught us how to dye with natural things:  dried onion peels, pecan and walnut shells, and cooked wild strawberries – things she had used as a child to dye her eggs.  After patiently letting the eggs dry, we were allowed to place them in a new basket with glistening green “grass”.   We tried to handle them carefully, but it was a rare day when one of the eggs didn’t get cracked. 

As a child, I always got a new dress and shiny shoes.  I didn’t get very many new dresses unless I outgrew mine, but there was always a new one at Easter.  Mom and my grandmother sometimes made it themselves, but occasionally it was “store-bought”.

Daddy and I always went to Sunday school and church.  He always reminded me that Easter was not about new dresses and Easter eggs. The Easter bunny never came to see me when I was a child.  I didn’t know he was supposed to.  But there was always a new Easter basket with a chocolate bunny, some marshmallow chicks, lots of jelly beans and a book.  In fact, I didn’t hear much about the visiting Easter bunny until I had children of my own!  I never knew that the Easter bunny brought gifts!

After church I always had to take off the new dress and put on “play clothes”.   Then we went to Ma’s house.  Easter dinner was always full of good things:  fried chicken, ham, potato salad, all kinds of vegetables, homemade rolls, and always coconut custard pies. I always looked forward to that, because just the minute dinner was eaten, we had the Easter egg hunt.  We always had “real” eggs; when I was a child, there were no plastic ones.  My grandmother loved to hide eggs and took delight in finding spots where they would be hard to find.  She always placed them in tree branches, creeping vines, and flower pots.  She had lots of good places to hide them at her house.  Sometimes she would hide them before we ate lunch; and that always heightened the anticipation, because we weren’t “turned loose” until dinner was over.  She always helped us find them too, delighting and giving hints as to where they just might be.  Once we got up on Easter morning and found the ground covered in snow.  We were so disappointed.  But Ma had a solution.  We just hid eggs all over her house. Weeks later, we found an egg on the top of the kitchen cabinet!

After we moved to the country, we always went to sunrise service at the church.  Most of the time, we had to wear our heavy coats; it was seldom warm on Easter morning.  Those were meaningful times.  No one was dressed in Easter finery, and all came to celebrate the risen Lord- the real meaning of Easter.  We went away with a renewed appreciation for eternal life and for our Lord who gave it to us.  Those thoughts should be uppermost in our minds when Easter is celebrated.    

New Beginnings

Sunrise - the untimate beginning
God's promise of renewal,
Brilliance and beauty
Exuding reverence.

Butterflies, fresh from the cocoon,
The cocoon of safety and confinement
Into a world of space -  and freedom.

Springtime, green and bright
With the hope of harvest;
Smells - peculiar only to Spring.

Easter, heralding the Joy of Rebirth,
God's assurance of Eternal Life;
Hope for tomorrow.

Seeds with life securely encased,
Needing only Nature's touch
To bring forth new beginnings.

And children...
God's reassurance of faith in human-kind,
Faith in His Creation.

New beginnings..
The chance to start over.
No remembering failures,
No holding grudges,
No finding fault.
New beginnings...
The gift of God's love.

Reflection

Would that all of us could
Allow our armor to
Be cast aside and
Become a child again
For just one day.

To experience the joy
Shown in simple things:
A bloom of dandelion,
Or an ant on the path;
A rose wrapped in paper,
Wet with water so that
It stays fresh and green
Until it gets to school.

Would that all of us could
Feel wind on our face and
Laughter in our hearts, and
Become a child again
For just one day.

I’m Grateful

There are so many things for which I’m grateful today.  I have paused this week to consider my good fortune – not luck, because there’s no such thing as luck for the Christian.  It’s all a part of God’s plan.

I am thankful that I have a God who’s always with me.  I don’t have to search for Him.  I don’t have to find a place to seek Him.  He’s here beside me always, inside me and directing my way. 

I’m grateful for a good man who’s been beside me for 54 years.  I’ve never had to worry about being mistreated.  I’ve never had to be concerned about his abusing alcohol or drugs.  He’s always been here.  He’s a hard worker – perhaps to a fault, but there’s not a lazy bone in his body.  He’s always been good to our children- and to those who have become a part of our life, sometimes providing for them too.   He has given us all he had, including a comfortable place to live.  I give thanks every day for a warm house in winter – and a cool one in the summer. “Thank you, Lord” is a phrase I always pray when I walk in the door on a cold winter night.

I’m grateful that I had good parents who loved me, provided for us, and taught me about the important things in life:  loving Christ, remaining faithful to my beliefs, loyal to those God has entrusted to me, giving to others.   God has allowed me to have a mother with me for almost 99 years.  She prays daily that the Lord will just take her home to be with Daddy.  I tell her that it just isn’t His plan, and she’ll have to hang around with me until He’s ready.

My children are the joy of my life: those to whom I gave birth, and those who came to me by chance.  I’m so glad I was allowed to have them in my life.  How blessed I am to have had the opportunity to teach them, love them, and learn from them.

I’m grateful for others who have entered my life and contributed to my happiness:  in-laws, mates of my children, grandchildren.  What a blessing to have around us those who love us.

My years as a teacher will forever remain a part of my life for which I am grateful. I hope that those whose pathway I crossed caught a glimpse of my caring for them, of my love for children, and for my love for learning.  How grateful I am for the ability to continue to learn, even today!

I’m not sure what kind of legacy I will leave, and it really doesn’t matter, as long as I have accomplished what the Lord wants me to do.  I am grateful for the life He has given me, and for the privilege I have had to have those around me who have made my life what it is.      

Life on the Edge of the Mill Hill

Life on the edge of the mill hill was a secure one for me.  My mother and daddy worked in Alice Mill for all of my young life.  Since my brother and I were not allowed to stay by ourselves, we were taken to my grandparents early every morning.  My grandmother fed us breakfast and sent us on our way to school. We always knew someone was close if we needed them.

When I was in the 6^th grade, I decided I was too old to eat breakfast.  I had heard some of my friends say that they didn’t eat  breakfast; they just got up, got dressed, and came to school.  Now that didn’t get it with my grandmother – but she didn’t say a word.  Instead, the next morning, she had prepared hot biscuits (hers were great!) with real butter, homemade apple butter, and a milkshake.  Now Ma knew there was no way under God’s high heaven I would refuse such a feast, because those were my favorite breakfast foods in the whole world!  So I ate! 

It was not until I returned from Winthrop one fall that I reminded my grandmother of that occasion. In her own quiet way, she said,” Oh, yeah, I never did tell you – I used to put an egg in that milk shake and made  eggnog.”   She knew not to tell me at the time.  I never would have touched the stuff!  It was really a pretty good breakfast though:  bread, milk, egg, and even a little bit of fruit.  A smart lady she was!  I always ate breakfast after that –I still do!

My brother and I walked to school every day.  It was just up the hill from my grandparent’s house on Park Street.  At the top of the hill, we had our first encounter with what folks today call “bullies”.  His house was the last house on the right before we got to the school.  His name was Jack.  We approached his house in fear, because he threw rocks at us.  He never left for school until he had his morning “fix” by persecuting us.  By the time we got to the top of the hill, several others had joined us.  One morning, somebody suggested that we pick up the rocks and throw them back at him!  We did, and it only took a few days for him to stop antagonizing us. We never did become his friend, but we tolerated him!

After school, we walked down the hill and my grandmother always had snacks ready for us (and for our friends too, if they followed us home). My brother and I were always included in everything that our grandparents did:  garden work, raking leaves, picking grapes or cherries, planting potato plants – anything they did, we were expected to do.

Daddy and Mother (one or both of them) usually got off work every day around 3 P.M., and they would come by our grandparents’ house to get us and take us home.  We actually thought of both places as “home” and had free reign to go from one place to the other as long as somebody knew where we were.  To leave without giving notice however, was a definite no-no!  Daddy usually rested for about an hour when he got off work.  I remember once when I decided that I could go to my cousin’s house and get back before he got up.  Well, I just forgot all about time!  Daddy started calling around to see if he could find me, called my cousin’s house, and told her mother to just let me stay until I got ready to come home.  It was dark-thirty when I thought about going home. That’s the only time in my life that Daddy spanked me.  I never did it again 

I remember one day, my brother was helping Pa feed the pigs, and his friend Murray was with them.  Murray had a biscuit in his hand that he had brought from home and no longer wanted to eat.  So when they fed the pigs, he threw the bread into the feed trough.  The pigs had had enough and didn’t eat it.  Chuck (my brother) said, ”Look, Murray, even the pigs won’t eat your Mama’s cooking!”  Pa really got Chuck for that!

Some folks thought that living on the “mill hill” was to be frowned upon. We never felt that way.  We didn’t live in the mill village itself, but the mill provided our livelihood. And we never felt threatened by anything.  Our doors were left unlocked.  We were able to walk to school without being afraid.  We played on the sidewalk after dark.  I walked four blocks to take piano lessons by myself, when I was in elementary school. And if anyone threw rocks at us, we just threw them back! 

Daddy

Don Remembers

                “My Daddy was a good man.  I still remember him kneeling beside his bed every night and praying.  He prayed for all of us; and I remember that he specifically always prayed for the troops during World War II.”  He didn’t live a long life.  He died of pneumonia at the age of 50.  Penicillin was in the research stages and some was flown in to treat him, but it arrived too late.  We were young:  I was 10, Richard was 11, Martha (Sister) was 12, and Edwin was 16. The loss of Daddy was life-changing.

                When the family was very young, we lived in town, in Chester, S.C.  But when I was six years old, Daddy and Mama bought a farm out on the Great Falls Highway, and we started farming. We loved being out in the country.  Daddy knew all about farming, because he was brought up on a farm in Williston, S.C.  He had a job as salesman for Hormel Meat Packing Company and he traveled from store to store selling products wholesale.  But he loved farming.  Every afternoon when he got off work, and on Saturday, he and all of the children would work in the fields.  We grew and canned the extra food which we ate during the winter months.  We also kept chickens, and hens for eggs; we milked cows; and pigs were grown for pork. But the bulk of the work was in the fields during growing season.  In addition to providing food for the family, we also had to grow enough hay and grain for the animals.  Daddy was a hard worker, and he expected the same from all of us. 

We used horse-drawn farming equipment, and always kept horses and mules for the farm work.  Caring for the horses and mules was a job itself.  We had a horse named Beauty who had a tendency to run away, and she could really run!  One day, Daddy was plowing with her and came in for lunch, bragging about the fact that Beauty had done so well that morning.  He went back to work after lunch to continue his plowing.  Beauty obviously didn’t want to work!    Suddenly, she broke loose and started running.  The ropes from the harness were wrapped around Daddy’s wrists and the horse started dragging him and the plow.  She finally hit a stump and his hands jarred loose.  She kept going though, and ran through the chicken fences, tearing them down, ran through the fence at the pig pens, ran into the garage and knocked it off its foundation, and when we finally caught up with her, she was calmly standing in her stall chewing on hay.  It took us a couple of days to repair the damage she did.

                Daddy liked to go back to Williston to visit his brothers and sisters. I particularly liked to visit Uncle Dess and his family.  He had lots of children and we all enjoyed being together.  He and his family were asparagus farmers, and we were usually there when they had big flat bed wagons loaded down with asparagus.  We usually took some home, along with a great big watermelon.  His sister, Aunt Eloise, had never married, and she was an elementary teacher in Williston.  For years, when I would go to meetings, people would ask me if I knew Miss Eloise.  “She taught me,” many would say.   All of Daddy’s brothers and sisters lived around Williston.  Uncle Dess, Will, Dewitt, and Land were all farmers.  Aunt Eloise and Ilma were his sisters.

                Uncle Will was Daddy’s oldest brother and often would be in charge of his younger brothers.  Daddy told the story about Will and his brothers plowing a field with a mule in the springtime.  The mule lay down and wouldn’t move.  Uncle Will told his brothers to build a brush fire around the mule and it would get up and move.  It didn’t, and they lost a mule!!

                Cooking was one of Daddy’s favorite things to do, but he didn’t like the electric stove.  We had a big wood stove that he liked to use.  He believed that the food was just better if he fired up the wood stove and used it when he cooked.  He always cooked breakfast for the family.  He would stir crumbled sausage into a big pot of grits, or cook grits, country ham, and red-eye gravy.  And everything was always cooked just right.

 Daddy followed the troops in World War II religiously.  He daily pinpointed Patton’s trek through Europe, marking the progress on a wall map.  During this time, our farm and the neighboring farm was used for maneuvers.  They practiced full-blown war including the use of howitzers and all kinds of artillery.  They dug foxholes all over the fields and woods.  The Crain’s farm was called the red army.  Our farm was across the highway, and it was the blue army. We grew lots of big watermelons; the red army had none.  So Richard and I decided we would take watermelons to the red team.  We knew we would be rewarded with candy bars (which were practically impossible to buy during the war) if we made it through the enemy lines.  We each got a watermelon and started crawling under kudzu vines to try to get to the red army. We didn’t make it.  We were captured by the enemy and kept hostage. Daddy had to come and negotiate with them to get us out of enemy hands.

I also remember that on one occasion, the truck containing the kitchen for the troops was sent to another destination, leaving one company behind without any way to prepare food; so Daddy and Mr. Crain, his good friend, cooked breakfast for 120 of the men.  After church every Sunday, Daddy and Mama always took some of the soldiers home for dinner too.  Mama always had fried chicken and all of the trimmings for them. They loved it! 

One day Daddy was working at clearing some bottom land, and he got too hot.  That seemed to be the beginning of his last illness.  Mama was in Florida to attend her daddy’s funeral, and Aunt Eloise came to stay with us.  Daddy couldn’t seem to recover from working and getting so hot.  Then, he and I got the flu.  Both of us had a high fever, and Daddy decided to get out of bed to try to help around the house.  He became much sicker the next day, was taken to Charlotte to the hospital, and the doctors discovered he had double pneumonia.  He died the next day.  I didn’t go to the funeral.  Betty, Edwin’s girlfriend (later his wife) stayed with me. I was 10 years old.

               

                 

Granddaddy’s Florida Farm

Don Remembers

                Mama’s family lived in Florida, and we didn’t get to see them very often.  When we did go, it was quite a trip. We left early in the morning and traveled all day.  We passed the time away by counting the mules and horses and cows along the way.  If we encountered a gray horse or mule, we could double the number that we had counted.  Richard and I counted one side of the road and Edwin and Sister counted the opposite side of the road.  We looked forward to the trip simply for that game alone.

                Granddaddy lived in Sanford, Florida, and he was quite innovative for his day.  He heated his house with solar energy before it was even an idea in the mind of others.  He grew a variety of produce on his farm:  celery, melons, and papayas as well as other vegetables.  Mama would receive big barrels from Granddaddy with papayas and watermelons carefully packed in excelsior to prevent their being bruised or broken.  Mama loved them, and he frequently surprised her with them.  He also had turkey houses, where weasels often would invade the premises and kill his turkeys; he had to remain diligent. He also had to deal with rattlesnakes, particularly in the terra cotta irrigation pipes where the turn-off valves were located.  At night, they slithered into the pipes, and I remember that he used to tell us about popping their heads off. 

One of his major projects was the breeding and growing of gladiolas.  He had acres and acres of them.  A particularly beautiful one that stands out in my mind was big and white with a red throat.  The flowers were packaged and shipped all over the country.

                Granddaddy was married to his second wife.  We called her Aunt Emily, because that was the name by which we knew her.  His first wife died young, and we never knew her.  Aunt Emily was her sister, and the two of them were married after she died.  We just always thought of her as our grandmother.

                When we were in Florida, Granddaddy would always take us fishing in the St. Johns River, and we never went without catching lots of fish.  It was always one of the highlights of our trip.  He always took us to see Uncle Bob Garrison who was Mama’s brother.  He farmed hundreds of acres in the Sarasota area, and was so busy he seldom took a lot of time with us, but we liked going to see him. Uncle Bob offered me a job one time, but we were already building a house and involved in our own farm work, so I refused.  Aunt Betty, one of Mama’s sisters lived in Bradenton and was married to Uncle Ed L. They were always fun to visit.  (Aunt Betty used to make persimmon pie that was so good.)  They lived on the Manatee River and had a dock that projected out into the river.  Manatees would frequently swim within view of the house.  She always warned the children to stay away from the shores of the river because alligators attacked anything within their reach.  We believed her!

                Granddaddy became very ill, and Mama went to Florida to see him.  He died seven days to the hour before Daddy did. Mama lost both of them within a week.