Jenny’s stories continue…


We all knew I was Momma’s baby girl, until she came along when I was three years old. Then all her attention was given to the new baby Bettie. I always managed to worm my way to be safely tucked under her one free arm. The poor woman never has a moment to her self. I think I even followed her to the outhouse.

The transition into starting school wasn’t an easy one for me. I was the poor white trash kid, that no one wanted to touch let alone play with. It didn’t help I was always sick, and had a snotty nose continually. My clothes and shoes weren’t like the other kids. My Momma always cut our hair herself. I don’t think my bangs were cut straight until I was old enough to pay for my own hair cuts.

One year the Odessa coat factory donated new coats to the children at school that was in need of one. I was so excited, I had never owned any thing new, let a lone a new coat. I was called up to the principles office to be fit for the coat. They handed me the most gorgeous coat I had ever seen. It was pure white and made of the softest fake fur. It even has a hand muff to match. It was a few sizes too big, but I didn’t care, it was perfect. I worn that coat with pride every day. It wasn’t long before my beautiful white coat became dirty and stained. We lived in an old farm house that was heated with wood that created soot everywhere. Also a six year old girl that plays outside with the many dogs, cats, goats and any other animal I could get my hands on, couldn’t keep anything nice and clean. If we didn’t have the money to buy a coat, then we certainly couldn’t afford to have the coat dry cleaned. So my once beautiful white coat became another source to be made fun of.

One day I returned home from school to find my little sister had her arm bandaged. She had slipped on ice on the front porch and fell on a jar cutting her arm. We didn’t have a phone and my dad was in the fields working, so momma picked Bettie up in her arms, and carried her up the long hill to Mrs, Colvins. They went to old Doc Martin’s in Odessa to get her wound sewed up. I was worried sick about my little sisters arm. I guess I had grown pretty fond of that baby who was taking all my attention from momma. My Sis and I had often wondered why momma carried her all the way up the hill. The adrenaline must have kicked in for her to been able to carry her that far. There is no bounds to what a mothers love can do.

My husband was talking the other day about my can do attitude. It got me thinking about my Momma. That amazing woman would take old scraps of material and make mittens for us kids to keep our hands warm in the winter. She reworked old dresses turning them into dresses that fit us to wear to school. She dumped flour , lard, baking powders , and milk into a bowel making the best biscuits and gravy I have ever ate.

I was blessed to have a Momma that showed me a can do attitude. I am even prouder when people say I am a lot like. I couldn’t think of anyone I would rather be like.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Terri Sonoda
    Mar 07, 2014 @ 04:21:11

    This was a beautiful story. Thanks for sharing, my friend. XOXOs

    Reply

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