Looking back, I guess by todays standards we would have been considered financially poor. However, to look upon it as children it seemed we had it all. We had a snuggly home in winter and despite the fact the home did not have a drop of insulation in the rafters- in summer it was remarkably cool inside.
Daddy used a coal stoker furnace for heat and with a couple boys in the household there were plenty of hands to carry coal to the basement. When the power was off there was a big fireplace in the living room to keep us warm. We always had clothing. Each year before school started mama and I would go shopping and I got four outfits. Not five, just four. It was what mama had budgeted in her head that she could afford for me. She made sure, without my knowledge the shirts were cotton where they could be worn summer and winter and the pants were not too heavy. Every Christmas I got one or two more outfits to add to the mix. Come Spring the shirt sleeves were cut off and hemmed, dress sleeves were changed and pants were cut off for shorts. Sometime mama would change the pants by adding a trim or some embellishment. I would then wear my "new" pants with great pride. Yes, by todays standard that would be poor but I never felt that. I can assure you my mother and all her good senses also knew we had enough. She carried no unneeded guilt because we didn't have material wealth. We had all we needed.
We always had great food. More than one of our uncles had cattle, we always had fresh beef in the freezer. Another uncle had fruit trees and we had plums, pears and apples for jam and jelly. Mama made the best jelly. My favorite was blackberry and sometimes she made just a few jars for me.
Daddy farmed a piece of leased land on occasion only a few miles from home. It was called "the old Brogden place." I remember sliding into the cool seat in mama's Ford Fairlane to take daddy and the boys sandwiches for lunch. Mama also made a gallon jug of tea and took water. She bagged ice in a brown paper bag and took jelly jars to drink out of. We would picnic right on the tailgate of the truck. Daddy pulled an old stump up for mama to sit on.
I would run thru the corn field higher than my head, break open watermelon and at night we shelled peas until our fingers were purple. There was the smell of earth at that farm place, it smelled of freshness and life. Daddy stood strong and straight. He had a tremendous work ethic and he taught it to his children. My brothers worked like men tending the garden with daddy. Daddy believed in hard work to keep you out of trouble and keep your heart humble, grateful. We raised peanuts and a full garden at home, plus hogs. The hogs were butchered come Fall each year and the meat shared with family. They shared their garden harvest every year as well. (I was the "corn silking" girl. After summer I never wanted to see another ear of corn. I must have silked thousands of ears.)
Daddy packed bushel baskets with fresh food to take to others. If a car was rolling I always wanted in it but mama never let me go with daddy on those deliveries. She didn't want to possibly embarrass the recipients. Back then everyone put others first. How incredibly sad that doesn't happen today.
We were not allowed many sweets in Mary Lou's house. If we ate raisins we had to brush our teeth. I can remember thinking "my mama is very wrong about this" and what I didn't realize was my mama was very smart. She was being thrifty by making sure our teeth were clean and we didn't need an unexpected trip to the dentist. Plus, she was pretty sure sugar was of the devil. We had homemade cakes for our birthdays and on holidays, that was pretty much it for sweets.
At the Hicks house our "cookies" were vanilla wafers and graham crackers. If you didn't want those mama felt you were probably not very hungry. Then there were those butter cracker days. When I was home sick from school or had a random stomach virus. Sometimes, just because we wanted them. It was always when it was just my mama and I. She would make a fresh pot of iced tea and she would get her Fostoria glasses out. Oh, we hardly ever got to use those as kids, we drank out of a jelly glass most of the time. [The jelly glass was the equivalent of the red Solo cup today.] Because, you know, kids break everything. You could always save more jelly glasses.
But. . . on those butter cracker days mama pulled out the good glasses and I got very excited.
She would let me help her and we would spread a thin layer of butter on saltines. Sometime on a couple graham crackers. She and I would sit down on the front porch to eat crackers and drink tea. I felt like a real lady. We would talk about school and projects she needed to work on at home. I always asked when we would be going to Pensacola to visit family and mama would offer a shopping trip to look at the new dresses for Spring. She would tell me which curtains needed cleaning or if a bedspread needed pressing and I would always help her. Not because I was required to but because I wanted to help. She made me feel special. We didn't have to go buy something, no dinner out or movie, just those butter crackers and tea with my mama. I still hear her laughter in my daughters voice.
It was only a week or so ago when I was making butter crackers for myself. I had a fresh glass of tea, no longer in a jelly glass. I sat on the back porch and listened to the birds. I miss her and those talks but I learned so much about life from her and that butter crackers are good eating.
It is important to know how to treat people, how to be happy with what you have, how to love your people well. Mama knew how to be happy in whatever situation she found herself in. Those lessons sustain me daily. It's "butter cracker satisfaction" I believe. A choice to be happy, every day.
My husband and I have much more than our parents did but it's still the simple things, simple days that bring joy and contentment.
Thank you Lord for simple days and butter crackers.
