Yesterday, I mentioned that my Pops was a master carpenter who kept his saw in the barn--which was covered in sawdust...
My Gran saved a letter that I wrote Pops the year I was seven. I guess she gave it to my mom, because my mom gave it to me years after I was grown. I had written, "Pops, I need sawdust. Please send me some. I'm making a rag doll and need sawdust to stuff it with." I don't remember whether or not he sent me a bag of sawdust, but knowing Pops, I'm sure he did.
He made my brother a swing that looked like a horse and hung it from one of the really tall oaks in his front yard. It had hinges, a mane, and handles that you could pump back and forth to go sky high. I don't have any idea how he got it so far up in the tree, but remember that the ropes were really high up. Which meant that the swinging arc was long--and way off the ground. Not like park swings today. We thought we were flying.
There was a path from the house down to his grocery store, where he also sold gasoline. He had two pumps--you'ld have to look at a 40's movie to know what the pumps looked like. I just remember that when someone pumped gas, you could watch it bubble down in a glass container on the top of the pump. I can still smell Pops' store when I fill my car with gasoline today. Amazing how many memories are connected to different smells.
I had a wonderful childhood. As I have taught classes in the church through the years, I have been saddened by the number of women who had horrific childhoods.
There is a scripture in Luke 12:48 that says: "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required..." All of my life I have been aware, reminded, conscious, of the fact that God expects something "more" from me because he gave me such a a wonderful childhood with such Godly parents and grandparents. Things like that are a jump start in life that you can't buy.
I think I will have to answer to God someday for all the things I failed to do with the blessings He gave me--blessings that I didn't do anything to deserve.
No comments:
Post a Comment