Happy Days

When I was little, I watched out the window for “Daddy” to come home.  He would often leave a treat in his lunch box for us to share.  He was so happy to see us.  Sometimes he would load up the whole family in the car and take us to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone.  If the neighbor kids were there, they piled in with us.  Sometimes we had to stack three deep on laps.  There were no seat belts then.  Other times he would take us camping in the nearby mountains.   I experienced him as kind, generous, and loving.  I loved being around him.

With so many siblings and Mother’s daycare children, I always had playmates.  I still thrill at the smell of dry Autumn leaves as it stirs up the memories of frolicking in them and burying each other in them.  The smell of summer rain brings back the happy times when we would run outside and sing and dance in the rain.  Then we made boats out of paper to float  on the water as it ran down the gutter.  On summer nights we played hide and seek throughout the yard.  Hopscotch and jump rope were daytime favorites.  In the evening we would sit on the front steps and visit mother while she sprayed the lawn with the hose.  I loved Mother's calm energy.  It gave me the feeling that everything would always come out right.  We could count on her being there.

One summer Dad had a huge pile of sand dumped in the back yard.  I don’t know why.  I just know we had tons of fun making tunnels, bridges, and waterways that summer.   There was a nice shaded spot under the back porch with a dirt floor.  We loved making little dishes out of the mud, letting them dry in the hot sun, then making shapes of food and pretend we were having a feast.  When I had my own children, I made sure there was either dirt or sand they could play in.   

We didn’t have a television until I was nine.  Mother had no money for something we didn’t need, so all the kids pitched together whatever money we earned on our own.  It took us nearly a year to save enough, and we were really excited when it came.  It was black and white.  It had a big cabinet with a small screen.

One of my favorite things is when we would have a large box of clothes given to us by someone.  It felt like Christmas!  We girls would rummage through the box and find the clothes that fit us.  Until one day at school, I was probably in third grade, one of my classmates announced to the class that the dress I was

wearing used to be hers.  The tone of voice she used made me feel less than.  I never wanted to feel that again.  I didn’t like wearing anything used at school after that.  It was a shock to hear that we were poor, especially while it was publicly announced.

We all got brand new school dresses for the first day of school and for Christmas.  I was finally old enough to take care of my own hair when I was eight.     

1960 the five “little sistas”

I appreciate the graces that surround and enrich my life.