I have finally figured out the mystery! The most important button on my television remote is right in the middle and is labeled with four letters of the alphabet. Those important letters are M-U-T-E! As we enter this election year, I suspect the mute button is going to get a lot of use. The only button that will get more use is the OFF button!
Shakespeare said it best - "much ado about nothing." The politics in these United States of America has eroded to the point where the prevailing winds are so much hot air without substance. The hot air successfully camoflages the underlying vicious intent of the perpetrators jockeying for power positions. These same perpetrators obviously slept through world history classes in high school and beyond because they are rushing to repeat the mistakes that led to the fall of the Roman Empire.
Church and state should not be mixed in my opinion. Each one of us has the right to choose a church which exemplifies our personal religious beliefs. I have two friends whose personal religious beliefs preclude them from eating pork. Should either of them visit me, I have enough respect for both women to serve no pork when we share a meal. That is common courtesy and neither of them wants to enact a law that keeps me from buying and/or eating bacon, sausage, and ham or an occasional pork chop. Religious freedom literally says that both women are free to believe what they wish and I am free to believe what I want. The fact that I respect their belief choice does not mean I have to live by their choices.
When my son invited a friend to dinner and the friend happened to be a vegetarian, common courtesy for his beliefs shaped a meal without meat. I did not see a guest with strange beliefs, all I saw was a six foot tall young man in his twenties who would be hungry at the end of the day. Since he could eat most non-meat dishes, I simply made sure there was enough food on the table to feed 2 hungry twenty-something men!
Was this a big deal? Not in my belief set. Common sense and common courtesy prevailed and I put a meal on the table that fed both men. The friend later said to my son that for the first time in his adult life, he was invited to a friend's house and was able to share an adequate meal. He seemed amazed. I was glad he was well fed but.....I was also embarassed that this young man would have been so, to me, disrespected in previous social encounters. Has common sense and common courtesy become so outdated?
The only person I have to live with is ME. Could I publicly and or privately humiliate a guest in my house? Being kind and/or considerate of others costs me nothing but being unkind and inconsiderate to others ultimately costs me my personal self respect.
That being said...I must label myself as hopelessly old-fashioned. I do not plan on losing friends because they attend a different church on Sunday, Saturday, or whenever. I also do not intend to argue with anyone over who is walking on a pathway to heaven or whose prayers are heard first. By the time I find out, I probably won't be on earth anyway and there won't be much I can do about it. My beliefs center on the rule..."Do unto others as you would have others do unto you!"
Mean spirited politics bring out the basest instincts in people. Am I supposed to let my neighbor and his children starve because his factory closed and he has no job? Is my neighbor supposed to die because he has no or inadequate health insurance? (That is why I have so much respect for a friend of one of my kids who practices medicine in a community health center in a major city. His patients need adequate access to health care and he works hard to provide it!) Over the years I taught in poor neighborhoods, I saw few doctors who treated the least wealthy and I know how many of my students depended on Planned Parenthood for medical care of the most personal sort.
Often I think of a young man I knew, who worked any job he could get (none especially high paying) to help his widowed sister support her family. He got sick and went to the emergency room in a large hospital. They prescribed antacids and generally ignored his complaints until his very young niece pitched a fit and made him go to another hospital...that same day. That hospital took time with him and correctly diagnosed his cancer.....it was aready too late. He died within the year. His crime...he was poor and uninsured...and now he is dead along with a dear friend of mine from a small Appalachian town. Her cancer was also diagnosed too late and the doctor who failed (refused) to treat her in the early stages of her illness because she couldn't pay....still "practices."
I also think of another physician I know who gathered two friends and went to the Dominican Republic (after the Haiti earthquake) with a plan to sneak across the border to look for a physician friend who had been on a missionary trip to Haiti. They did not find their friend...they found people who needed help...and promptly rolled up their sleeves and went to work. That physician has my eternal respect....he (and his friends) did what needed to be done!
That said....I think I'll move on.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
A Not-so-Modern Christmas Story
Maree stood quietly in the front room window watching as the snow flakes fell through the early afternoon sky. The first flakes were lacy and as the storm grew heavier, they soared and floated softly on the wind currents. As the snow fell Maree whispered a silent thankful prayer for the for-sure coming white Christmas.
In the back room the fir tree was already decorated with bubble lights, colored balls, tinsel and the lighted family cross was hanging in the window. . The tree’s lights were plugged in and shining and a few wrapped packages were tucked under the branches. The smell of fresh cut cedar filled the room and the house. The outside temperature was dropping and the snowfall grew increasingly heavier. The once lacy flakes changed shapes, became smaller , and filled the darkening winter sky. Maree continued her lone vigil watching thoughtfully as the winter storm closed around the house, the smoke house and the cellar tucked into the side of the hill across the road.. As she watched ….the young neighbor woman from the next hollow came trudging down the mountain road followed by her two young daughters struggling to place their tiny feet in their mother’s tracks. The young family walked on past the small house and soon the watery car tracks on the lower mountain road were the only visible patches of uncovered ground and then gradually, they too became invisible. The snow came steadily down and in the distance a lonely hound dog bayed. Except for the hound dog and then the miles-off whistle of the westbound Norfolk and Western passenger train ……on the eastern side of the Big Sandy River in Epperson Hollow, there were no other sounds.
Maree had watched the young family as they passed the barn, the turning place and finally disappeared around the curve by the giant elm trees in front of Miz’ Virginia Moore’s abandoned house. She then walked thoughtfully to the back sitting room where her grandparents rocked, talked and whiled away the afternoon. She stood briefly before the fireplace between her elderly grandparents. Finally, she spoke. “Grampa, that young Miz’ Daggs just passed the house…” Her grandfather’s ninety year old gray blue eyes cut in her direction and he silently waited to hear whatever she was going to say..”I heard tell that her husband is up in Ohio…Columbus or Mansfield or somewhere up there…. looking for work and she’s over the hill with her two girls and ain’t got no Christmas tree. Her cousin Pearlene.,…you know Pearlene….she’s in the other sixth grade class at school….well, she told me that they’ve barely got any food in the house. Too bad we can’t do something for her and the girls.”
“What’re you thinking about Sis?” the elder asked after a thinking pause. “You got something in mind..else you’d never mentioned it.”
“Well, ….I got plenty of clothes upstairs that Granny’s been saving…stuff I’ve outgrown.. Those little girls don’t even have any galoshes …they’re walking in their mama’s tracks trying to keep their feet dry. I know I got at least two pair of galoshes I can’t wear no more..my feet’re too big.” The old man listened and nodded and then held an almost whispered conversation with his tiny blind sprite of a wife as she sat in her rocking chair beside him. The coal fire in the grate crackled a bit as a lump split and fell to the bottom of the fireplace. The two old ones rocked companionably, silently, a while longer.
Finally, the old grandfather spoke, “Sis, what you plannin’ on putting the stuff in?”
“Uncle Tom brought home a big feed sack the other night. It’s clean, Cousin Alfred brought it in town from the farm and Cousin Ellen washed it. Bout big enough to make the two little ones a dress apiece and it ain’t been split yet cause it’s the only one we got of that print.”
The old one nodded his head and rocked some more. “It still snowing? Then maybe you’d better prop your sled on the front porch and go ahead and get working on filling that feed sack. Then find you a little box and put some of that Christmas fruit , nuts and candy in there from out of the pantry. Then you get back to the window and watch for her to come back up the road. Your Granny and I’ll handle the rest.”
The child nodded and left the room. Soon she was back at the window watching the snow fall and keeping an offhand eye on the curve beyond the barn. The Seth Thomas clock on the mantel ticked loudly on toward late afternoon and the rocking chairs in the next room creaked on the linoleum floor. Occasionally, the older couple could be heard murmuring softly to each other. Maree didn’t say much else…..she just kept her vigil by the front room window. Finally. she saw what she was looking for ..the young mother was coming up the road carrying a brown poke full of food and the two young girls were following close behind her. Maree pushed the lacy curtains together and slipped into the next room to tell her grandparents.
The old grandmother spoke softly, “You tell that young woman that me and your grandfather …we want to speak to her right away and she’s to bring those younguns’ out of the weather. Then you keep quiet as a mouse..”
Maree grabbed her coat , tied a wool scarf on her head before she went out the front doorand down the walkway to the gate. As the neighbor family drew closer….she opened the gate and called out, “Mis’ Daggs….Gramma and Grampa said for you to come in here right away and to bring the girls.” As she finished the speech, Maree turned and headed toward the door, turning once to make sure the young family followed. As soon as the woman and children were inside the house, she closed the door, pushed a rag rug over the crack at the bottom and pointed toward the sitting room. “They’re in the other room…back there.” She pointed toward the open door.
“You sent for me, Miss Mary and Mr. Grant?” the young woman asked shyly.
“Come on over here by the fireplace and get warm. ” The elder couple rocked patiently while the young woman and her children moved into the room and toward the warmth of the fire place.. After a silent moment, the tiny grandmother spoke again. “Me and my husband……well,,,,we have to see to the raising of our grandchild, Maree, here. Her mother, our daughter, well she died a while back but you see, there is nobody else but her daddy and her uncles…and we just wouldn’t hold with sending her away from home…even though her older sister wanted her……..so, we’re raising her.”
For the first time, the gray headed grandfather spoke, “Those boys….they just spoil this girl something awful….and it’s not fitten’. Right now…we need your help ‘cause this girl hasn’t pleased us…not one bit…and she don’t deserve much of a Christmas…and until she behaves better, she’s not going to get much.” There was finality in the older man’s voice as he looked directly at the younger woman..
“Like my husband said, we need your help,” the blind grandmother continued. “This girl don’t deserve much of a Christmas. My husband and I…… we went through what the boys bought for her and we decided she’s not going to get any of this stuff. So….we put everything we don’t want her to have in that feed sack over in the corner…what we want you to do is take all of it away from here. Make sure you take that box of fruit and candy and such too,,,,she’s spoiled and don’t need any of it!”
The grandfather added , ”Will you do that for us? We’d be most appreciative and maybe…just maybe…Maree will be a better child next year. Now, Maree’s sled is propped up on the front porch. You just load that bag and the box and your kids on that sled and take everything on over the hill to your house. You can drop the sled off next time you go to town…Maree won’t be needin’ it…..like we said, we’re not pleased with her and until she learns how to act…she’s getting nothing. Maree….now you quit your listening….. and you just get along upstairs and stay out of grown folks’ business!”
Maree lowered her eyes and left the sitting room heading through the shotgun house toward the dining room. The elder grandfather got out of his chair to help the neighbor woman bundle the children back up and then walked out with her to help load everything on the sled. When he came back into the house…Maree was back downstairs sitting on the stool by her grandmother’s feet.
“Girl gone, Grant?”
“Yep…she’s on her way and the baby girl is riding the sled…..she was about ready to cry but I didn’t give her a minute to say anything. Glad you sent Maree out of here before her face gave everything away. I don’t want that young woman to feel beholden to us in any way…..no sirree.”
His wife nodded in agreement and then spoke to her grandchild, “Maree, go get me and your Grampa an orange out of the box in the pantry. Good thing you kept your eyes and ears open. I expect those children wouldn’t have much of any Christmas at all if you hadn.t….you put any toys in that sack?”
“Yes’m….the girls have a doll apiece and a little teddy bear and knit hats and scarves for all of them….I’ve outgrown so much stuff this last year…ain’t no need of me keeping it….” The elder couple reached out for each other’s hand , nodded silently in agreement and went back to rocking. The lights on the Christmas tree brightened the room as the evening darkened and the snow storm grew heavier.
Outside the snow kept on falling until it finally covered the foot tracks and the sled path of the family from the next hollow. Off in the distance the locomotive whistle of the evening train sounded and night began to fall. Christmas was coming soon.
In the back room the fir tree was already decorated with bubble lights, colored balls, tinsel and the lighted family cross was hanging in the window. . The tree’s lights were plugged in and shining and a few wrapped packages were tucked under the branches. The smell of fresh cut cedar filled the room and the house. The outside temperature was dropping and the snowfall grew increasingly heavier. The once lacy flakes changed shapes, became smaller , and filled the darkening winter sky. Maree continued her lone vigil watching thoughtfully as the winter storm closed around the house, the smoke house and the cellar tucked into the side of the hill across the road.. As she watched ….the young neighbor woman from the next hollow came trudging down the mountain road followed by her two young daughters struggling to place their tiny feet in their mother’s tracks. The young family walked on past the small house and soon the watery car tracks on the lower mountain road were the only visible patches of uncovered ground and then gradually, they too became invisible. The snow came steadily down and in the distance a lonely hound dog bayed. Except for the hound dog and then the miles-off whistle of the westbound Norfolk and Western passenger train ……on the eastern side of the Big Sandy River in Epperson Hollow, there were no other sounds.
Maree had watched the young family as they passed the barn, the turning place and finally disappeared around the curve by the giant elm trees in front of Miz’ Virginia Moore’s abandoned house. She then walked thoughtfully to the back sitting room where her grandparents rocked, talked and whiled away the afternoon. She stood briefly before the fireplace between her elderly grandparents. Finally, she spoke. “Grampa, that young Miz’ Daggs just passed the house…” Her grandfather’s ninety year old gray blue eyes cut in her direction and he silently waited to hear whatever she was going to say..”I heard tell that her husband is up in Ohio…Columbus or Mansfield or somewhere up there…. looking for work and she’s over the hill with her two girls and ain’t got no Christmas tree. Her cousin Pearlene.,…you know Pearlene….she’s in the other sixth grade class at school….well, she told me that they’ve barely got any food in the house. Too bad we can’t do something for her and the girls.”
“What’re you thinking about Sis?” the elder asked after a thinking pause. “You got something in mind..else you’d never mentioned it.”
“Well, ….I got plenty of clothes upstairs that Granny’s been saving…stuff I’ve outgrown.. Those little girls don’t even have any galoshes …they’re walking in their mama’s tracks trying to keep their feet dry. I know I got at least two pair of galoshes I can’t wear no more..my feet’re too big.” The old man listened and nodded and then held an almost whispered conversation with his tiny blind sprite of a wife as she sat in her rocking chair beside him. The coal fire in the grate crackled a bit as a lump split and fell to the bottom of the fireplace. The two old ones rocked companionably, silently, a while longer.
Finally, the old grandfather spoke, “Sis, what you plannin’ on putting the stuff in?”
“Uncle Tom brought home a big feed sack the other night. It’s clean, Cousin Alfred brought it in town from the farm and Cousin Ellen washed it. Bout big enough to make the two little ones a dress apiece and it ain’t been split yet cause it’s the only one we got of that print.”
The old one nodded his head and rocked some more. “It still snowing? Then maybe you’d better prop your sled on the front porch and go ahead and get working on filling that feed sack. Then find you a little box and put some of that Christmas fruit , nuts and candy in there from out of the pantry. Then you get back to the window and watch for her to come back up the road. Your Granny and I’ll handle the rest.”
The child nodded and left the room. Soon she was back at the window watching the snow fall and keeping an offhand eye on the curve beyond the barn. The Seth Thomas clock on the mantel ticked loudly on toward late afternoon and the rocking chairs in the next room creaked on the linoleum floor. Occasionally, the older couple could be heard murmuring softly to each other. Maree didn’t say much else…..she just kept her vigil by the front room window. Finally. she saw what she was looking for ..the young mother was coming up the road carrying a brown poke full of food and the two young girls were following close behind her. Maree pushed the lacy curtains together and slipped into the next room to tell her grandparents.
The old grandmother spoke softly, “You tell that young woman that me and your grandfather …we want to speak to her right away and she’s to bring those younguns’ out of the weather. Then you keep quiet as a mouse..”
Maree grabbed her coat , tied a wool scarf on her head before she went out the front doorand down the walkway to the gate. As the neighbor family drew closer….she opened the gate and called out, “Mis’ Daggs….Gramma and Grampa said for you to come in here right away and to bring the girls.” As she finished the speech, Maree turned and headed toward the door, turning once to make sure the young family followed. As soon as the woman and children were inside the house, she closed the door, pushed a rag rug over the crack at the bottom and pointed toward the sitting room. “They’re in the other room…back there.” She pointed toward the open door.
“You sent for me, Miss Mary and Mr. Grant?” the young woman asked shyly.
“Come on over here by the fireplace and get warm. ” The elder couple rocked patiently while the young woman and her children moved into the room and toward the warmth of the fire place.. After a silent moment, the tiny grandmother spoke again. “Me and my husband……well,,,,we have to see to the raising of our grandchild, Maree, here. Her mother, our daughter, well she died a while back but you see, there is nobody else but her daddy and her uncles…and we just wouldn’t hold with sending her away from home…even though her older sister wanted her……..so, we’re raising her.”
For the first time, the gray headed grandfather spoke, “Those boys….they just spoil this girl something awful….and it’s not fitten’. Right now…we need your help ‘cause this girl hasn’t pleased us…not one bit…and she don’t deserve much of a Christmas…and until she behaves better, she’s not going to get much.” There was finality in the older man’s voice as he looked directly at the younger woman..
“Like my husband said, we need your help,” the blind grandmother continued. “This girl don’t deserve much of a Christmas. My husband and I…… we went through what the boys bought for her and we decided she’s not going to get any of this stuff. So….we put everything we don’t want her to have in that feed sack over in the corner…what we want you to do is take all of it away from here. Make sure you take that box of fruit and candy and such too,,,,she’s spoiled and don’t need any of it!”
The grandfather added , ”Will you do that for us? We’d be most appreciative and maybe…just maybe…Maree will be a better child next year. Now, Maree’s sled is propped up on the front porch. You just load that bag and the box and your kids on that sled and take everything on over the hill to your house. You can drop the sled off next time you go to town…Maree won’t be needin’ it…..like we said, we’re not pleased with her and until she learns how to act…she’s getting nothing. Maree….now you quit your listening….. and you just get along upstairs and stay out of grown folks’ business!”
Maree lowered her eyes and left the sitting room heading through the shotgun house toward the dining room. The elder grandfather got out of his chair to help the neighbor woman bundle the children back up and then walked out with her to help load everything on the sled. When he came back into the house…Maree was back downstairs sitting on the stool by her grandmother’s feet.
“Girl gone, Grant?”
“Yep…she’s on her way and the baby girl is riding the sled…..she was about ready to cry but I didn’t give her a minute to say anything. Glad you sent Maree out of here before her face gave everything away. I don’t want that young woman to feel beholden to us in any way…..no sirree.”
His wife nodded in agreement and then spoke to her grandchild, “Maree, go get me and your Grampa an orange out of the box in the pantry. Good thing you kept your eyes and ears open. I expect those children wouldn’t have much of any Christmas at all if you hadn.t….you put any toys in that sack?”
“Yes’m….the girls have a doll apiece and a little teddy bear and knit hats and scarves for all of them….I’ve outgrown so much stuff this last year…ain’t no need of me keeping it….” The elder couple reached out for each other’s hand , nodded silently in agreement and went back to rocking. The lights on the Christmas tree brightened the room as the evening darkened and the snow storm grew heavier.
Outside the snow kept on falling until it finally covered the foot tracks and the sled path of the family from the next hollow. Off in the distance the locomotive whistle of the evening train sounded and night began to fall. Christmas was coming soon.
Marked Baby Fingers
At some point in our young adulthood, usually in our early teens, we let go of the childhood notion that the adults in our lives are infallible and make no mistakes . We go to school and we have begun to acquire what we consider real world knowledge. About that time…we decide that the adults in our lives don’t know and haven’t learned as much as we have. That is a dangerous age because as the old saying goes incomplete knowledge is a dangerous thing.
I was no different by age 12 and one day (in my total ignorance passing for knowledge) I smarted off to Granny….busily telling her that it wasn’t possible for a baby to be “marked” before it was born. To my surprise, my grandmother giggled and laughed at me
“Why are you laughing at me?” I demanded.
Granny was laughed so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. “Learned that at school, did you?”
I remember answering that yes….that’s what I learned in science class. Then she called outside for Grampa to come in. He was told what I had said. There I sat….waiting to be told to go get a peach tree switch because I had gotten sassy with Granny . Then came a story that I have never forgotten.
Granny was pregnant with Uncle Jack. The other children were playing in the front room near the fire place. Uncle Charlie was outside helping Grampa because he was nearly 16, so he and Grampa were not in the house. Uncle Carter was about 8, Momma was 5…nearly 6 and Uncle Tom was 3. The three younger ones were running and playing when somehow Uncle Tom fell into the fireplace and burned his hand. Granny ran in from the kitchen and snatched Uncle Tom out of the fireplace. The index finger and thumb were the only fingers not burned and blistered. Whatever remedy our elders knew for burns was applied and the injury was bandaged with muslin strips. Uncle Tom’s burns eventually healed but he was never again able to completely straighten those three fingers. Of course…I knew about the curled fingers that never straightened and I sat there wondering where the story was going.
Then Granny dropped her bombshell….”Have you ever looked at your Uncle Jack’s hand?” I did not know what she was talking about and she didn’t tell me anything except that I should look carefully at Uncle Jack’s hand when he came home next time. Several weeks later my youngest uncle showed up and I flew out to meet him by the front gate. I asked if could see his hand almost before he got out of the car. He held his hand up and to my amazement the same three fingers (as on his older btother's hand) were curled into his palm….the same fingers neither man was ever able to straighten out completely.
Enough said!
I was no different by age 12 and one day (in my total ignorance passing for knowledge) I smarted off to Granny….busily telling her that it wasn’t possible for a baby to be “marked” before it was born. To my surprise, my grandmother giggled and laughed at me
“Why are you laughing at me?” I demanded.
Granny was laughed so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. “Learned that at school, did you?”
I remember answering that yes….that’s what I learned in science class. Then she called outside for Grampa to come in. He was told what I had said. There I sat….waiting to be told to go get a peach tree switch because I had gotten sassy with Granny . Then came a story that I have never forgotten.
Granny was pregnant with Uncle Jack. The other children were playing in the front room near the fire place. Uncle Charlie was outside helping Grampa because he was nearly 16, so he and Grampa were not in the house. Uncle Carter was about 8, Momma was 5…nearly 6 and Uncle Tom was 3. The three younger ones were running and playing when somehow Uncle Tom fell into the fireplace and burned his hand. Granny ran in from the kitchen and snatched Uncle Tom out of the fireplace. The index finger and thumb were the only fingers not burned and blistered. Whatever remedy our elders knew for burns was applied and the injury was bandaged with muslin strips. Uncle Tom’s burns eventually healed but he was never again able to completely straighten those three fingers. Of course…I knew about the curled fingers that never straightened and I sat there wondering where the story was going.
Then Granny dropped her bombshell….”Have you ever looked at your Uncle Jack’s hand?” I did not know what she was talking about and she didn’t tell me anything except that I should look carefully at Uncle Jack’s hand when he came home next time. Several weeks later my youngest uncle showed up and I flew out to meet him by the front gate. I asked if could see his hand almost before he got out of the car. He held his hand up and to my amazement the same three fingers (as on his older btother's hand) were curled into his palm….the same fingers neither man was ever able to straighten out completely.
Enough said!
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