When I was a little girl in elementary school, my mom would pick me up from school for lunch the day after I'd been sick. I always thought that was standard procedure for recovering kids with fever and a cough, until I had a few more years on me. Then, it occurred to me that my sweet, nurturing mom was simply showing her love.
It was Fall or maybe Winter in my small Texas town and I had been sick. Nothing more than a croup, which was a bad cough and fever, but a temperature had kept me home from school for a few days. On this cool crisp day, my mom picked me up from my second grade class at Woodcrest Elementary School to go back home in the middle of the day for lunch. The house was quieter than normal since my brothers were not home. Because my dad was a shift worker at a refinery, he may or may not have been at home in the middle of the day. What I remember most was it was just Mama and me in our cozy little kitchen as the faint sound of refinery whistles blew for the noon hour.
On this particular day, returning to school, mom had dressed me to stay warm. Not only did I wear warm socks with my shoes, but also corduroy pants under my dress to keep my legs warm and a cotton undergarment covering my chest. I didn't wear knit stocking caps, but on windy cool days, Mother made me wear a scarf on my head tied under my chin. As I recall the scarves were a heavier material with a printed pattern of some sort. Mom was always sure to cover my ears from the wind. Even now, the image of her tying it around my head and patting my ears comes to mind.
The smell of my warm house filled my senses as we came inside out of the chilly air. After taking off my coat and scarf, mom directed me to the kitchen table. She prepared my favorite food for a sick day, scrambled egg sandwiches. Hmmm, yum! On this particular day, as a special treat, Mom had cut off the crusts and wrote my initials with food coloring and a toothpick on each of the 4 triangular sandwiches. I don't remember what else I might have had with that modest lunch. I just remember the special sandwiches. What a treat had been prepared by my mom just for me. What a blessed little girl!
Somewhere in my memory of similar days off from school, are cardboard puzzles, big thick coloring books and a box of 64 Crayolas. There was also a green hardback book filled with Sunday School stories called
Bible Stories for Little Folk by Edna B. Rowe, Revision copyright, 1947. I am fortunate to still have that book today along with another one titled,
Marian's Favorite Bible Stories by Marian M. Schoolland, copyright, 1958. Both are books I loved to look through as a child. Even though I didn't care much for reading, the books' pictures would captivate me and I'd pour over each one taking note of the artist's depiction of the story. In the green
Bible Stories book, my favorite picture was one of the Good Samaritan or as the book titled it,
The Good Neighbor. There was something about the way the good stranger in the picture held the wounded man's head up to give him water that caught my attention. Later, as an adult, I noticed the same individual Bible stories from that book were being handed out to children at church as their take-home lesson. I was glad they were still being used, although, I'm sure they have been finally retired by now.
Memories from my childhood have been replaying on this quiet Autumn day. I look forward to crisp brown leaves, smells of burning wood and the occasional refinery whistle at noon. On these days, I am transported back to braids in my blond hair, dresses with sashes tied in back, black Mary Jane shoes and of course, a scarf on my head.
My childhood was a simple, no frills existence full of the love my parents exhibited to me through scrambled egg sandwiches, Bible Story books and coming home in the middle of the day for lunch. By God's grace, my childhood memories are happy ones.
Some children, unfortunately, won't have happy memories. It brings sorrow to my heart to hear news of child abuse, children starving in third world countries or right here in this country. Many children grow up too fast, facing trials not meant for anyone and often times brought on by their parents. Another favorite picture in my Bible Stories book that brings warm feelings of love, shows Jesus with children sitting all around him and on his lap. The soft touch of the Lord, the loving Cherub-like faces on the children, has long been a comfort as I recall Jesus' words.
Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not;
for of such is the kingdom of God." (Mark 10:13-16)
We were those children at one time. Jesus calls to us to remember. Having been blessed with the love of good parents, it is not hard for me to understand Jesus' love. That is not so easy for some children today or even for some adults who grew up in abusive or hard life situations. Today my prayers will be for the children and adults who have not known the love of a caring parent. I'll ask Jesus to wrap his loving arms around them and touch them in a loving way not felt before. May God go with them all the way, for of such is the kingdom of God.
Holidays are here once again and reflections of times past inevitably come to mind. This Thanksgiving was spent with our middle child, Kyle and his wife, Amanda and their 10-day old baby daughter, Olivia. It was a special time because we rarely get the opportunity to have time alone to visit with just he and his wife. With no other family around, I was privileged to hold my new granddaughter as much as I wanted. She slept in my arms, wiggled around in my lap and looked up at my face. Sweet memories in the making! Perhaps one of these days when we are old and Olivia is visiting her grandparents, we’ll all remember with fondness, this first Thanksgiving just after her birth. Okay...we will remember and tell her all about how much we loved being together with she and her parents.
