To Catch a Ball

I always enjoyed having first graders in school. They often provided humorous moments with their cute way of saying and doing things.

One first grader all of us liked especially well. He was a little blond haired boy, very short for his age, and one of the most cheerful little children ever.  He came from a family that had to work hard to make ends meet. His clothes though clean, fit very badly. His pants were huge. They came half way up his back and were big enough that two little boys could have fit inside them. His suspenders kept them from falling down but they still sagged badly in both front and back.

One day as we were playing baseball, using a tennis ball since the school board deemed it too dangerous to use a baseball, one of the upper grade boys was up to bat. we all watched as he made a beautiful fly and started running in hopes of making a home run. As we ran to get the ball it disappeared, and the next instant the little first grader started jumping and yelling excitedly. He had caught the ball in the front of his pants.

We all had to laugh, even the one who was now declared to be out. The first grader was absolutely thrilled that he was the one that caught the fly and got one of the big boys out. That moment made it's way into the all time funniest way to catch a ball ever, files of our community.

The Mouse

My best friend Nancy and I were the only girls in my grade since cousin Emma and her family had moved away. Nancy and I always did everything together. Often after our lessons were done for the day our teacher would get us to help the lower grades study spelling or drill them with flashcards. We both enjoyed it very much.

One day as we were dismissed for recess we went to visit the outhouse. For the past several weeks there had been signs of a mouse snacking on the paper products but we had never seen it so it didn't bother us very much. Today however when we open the door the little creature was sitting between the two seats. It stared at us for a little bit with it's beady little eyes and then darted up the wall and sat on top of the wall.

Nancy and I both froze and then turned around and ran back to the school house to get several brooms. We told the boys that they needed to kill a mouse. They told us to chase it out and they would be waiting outside to get rid of it. As the boys gathered around outside to make sure the terrified little mouse doesn't escape Nancy and I armed ourselves with brooms and went back inside to see if we could chase it outside to meet it's fate. The mouse had no intentions of being chased outside and kept running all around the top of the walls until Nancy and I were quite dizzy trying to keep track of it.

After a while the teacher sensed unusual activity on the playground and came to see what we were up to. After sizing up the situation she took my broom and with one deft stroke hit the mouse which made a flying leap right down one of the holes.  The boys were disappointed that they weren't our heroes after all and Nancy and I both shuddered at the mouse's fate and refused to use that hole for the rest of the school term.

Changes

Our church district needed another preacher in order to have enough preachers to ordain one of them to be the bishop of our local church. The weeks leading up to the ordination were sober as we wondered who would be chosen. It would be a big responsibility and change to who ever was ordained.

The day finally arrived and church seemed to drag on for the longest time. Finally after the last song was sung and the children were dismissed we all went outside and the doors were closed so that only the members would be there for the solemn event of voting and ordaining another preacher.

What seemed like a long time everyone came out of the church house and I could hardly wait to ask Mom and Daddy who the new preacher was. But when I saw Mom I could see that she was trying not to cry. On the way home they told us that Uncle John Henry was our new preacher.

I felt a little sorry for him but on the other hand I looked forward to hear him.

Several weeks later he preached his first sermon. It was really good and I looked forward to the next time it was his turn to preach.

A year or so later they ordained a bishop, chosen from the three preachers. Once again the lot fell on John Henry. I was happy to know my uncle would be performing all the important events. I still had several years to wait until I was old enough to be included in any of them but it was comforting to know once I was old enough it would be one of my favorite uncles performing the ceremonies.

Dirty

A new family moved into the community and with them came a few choice words their children used to express themselves. It didn't take us children long to start using them also.  Mom and Daddy weren't happy and gave us several lectures about the importance of not using words that aren't pure and that don't do anything to make our conversation better.

They made us copy and memorize the verse in Matthew that told us  to let our conversation be yea yea or nay nay and whatsoever is more than this cometh from evil. We tried to be more careful but it didn't seem to last for very long, somehow it felt good to occasionally add a few words to express our feelings.

One evening one of us again happened to use a word and Mom got a funny look on her face and marched the offender into the bathroom. She had just finished changing the baby's soiled diaper. "A dirty word deserves a dirty punishment," she declared and instructed the guilty party to wash the diaper out in the toilet.
No amount of gagging and retching made her change her mind.

From that day forward when ever we happened to use an offensive word we had to wash a soiled diaper. It didn't take us very long at all to have a strong aversion of using any words that we shouldn't. And to this day whenever I hear someone adding choice words to their conversations I still see those disgusting diapers.

The Sandwich

As spring came Daddy decided to fence in our field across the road from our house and the several acres of woods that we had. In order to make the fence he first needed to make fence posts. A farmer right next to the school house had lots of fine locust trees just perfect for what Daddy was looking for to make fence posts. He was planning on clearing them away in order to make more cropland anyway and told Daddy if he gets them cut and hauled away within a certain time frame he can have how ever much he needs.

Daddy decided to ask a neighboring family if one of their boys could come help him so he could get it done faster. Much to my dismay he hired LV's brother Melvin. I would be sitting at my desk in school everyday and see Daddy and Melvin pass by with load after load of freshly cut locust posts. I couldn't figure out why it bothered me so much that Melvin was working for Daddy except that Melvin's family was so far above our league that I was always uncomfortable around them and with all the things I had endured from LV the previous school years I knew that Melvin was probably secretly making fun of Daddy and the very thought that he would do that gave me a sick feeling.

As the days passed Daddy seemed to enjoy working with Melvin and would often have stories to share at the supper table of their days accomplishments and the conversations they had. I was beginning to think everything was going to be alright even if he had someone from that family working for him.

But then one evening Daddy sat down at the table and as he was filling his plate he started chuckling and started telling us about his day. They had been on their way home with their last load of posts for the day and were beginning to get quite hungry. Since Mom always packed plenty of lunch for Daddy he reached into his lunch pail and got a sandwich and offered half of it to Melvin. As Daddy ate his, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Melvin carefully dropped the sandwich in front of the wheel when he thought Daddy wasn't looking.

I was absolutely horrified that Daddy would even think of sharing his sandwich. It had been made out of homemade whole wheat bread with thick slices of our canned hamburger. And I knew that Melvin's family always had white store bought bread with cheese or deli meats. I was sure that Melvin went home and told everyone else what an awful sandwich he had been offered and they were all probably laughing at us.

Daddy didn't seem concerned about that as he chuckled heartily that someone would think that Mom's delicious sandwich didn't look appetizing enough to even take a bite.

Life Goes On

As the school term ended Mom turned down the request to teach grammar classes again the next year. I was a little sad that she wouldn't be back but I knew she would be extra busy once the baby came.

Summer passed swiftly with a lot of work that needed to be done, our garden was even bigger than the previous year, customers to our store were increasing steadily and there were baby clothes that needed to be made.

When school started I was amazed at how relaxing it seemed to be in the eighth grade and not have to worry about LV since he had graduated. Everything was in a comfortable routine and I was enjoying school more than I ever had before. I did wish I could be at home to cuddle our new baby once it arrived.

A few days before Christmas we were once again awakened early and sent to Grandpa Masts. I was excited knowing that finally after waiting for so long I would be getting my baby sister. Mom and Daddy had told me if it's a girl I would be allowed to choose the name. I already had it picked out and was looking forward to announcing it. There was a pile of pink blankets and sleepers waiting to welcome her.

When we came home from school Mom was in her bed waiting to show us the new baby. As we stood around the bed she handed the baby to me and said. "Say hello to Ivan."  I held him and wondered how it's possible a newborn could be that ugly. Not only was he red and wrinkly but on his forehead there was an ugly birthmark.

I immediately knew it was my fault Ivan had a birthmark because I had talked about the accident Mom had at school when we had been playing baseball. Once the boys had gone back to the shop with Daddy I told Mom I was sorry that I caused the birthmark. She assured me it wasn't my fault. I asked if it always leaves a birthmark when a mother gets hurt before the baby is born. She said it doesn't always happen that way but it can. The birthmark on Aunt Emma's arm came from Grandma spilling some boiling water on her arm before Emma had been born. One of my friends was blind in her one eye because her mother had panicked and over reacted when a rooster had pecked her son's eye.

Thankfully Ivan's birthmark faded and by the time he was several months old there was only a faint mark there and with time even that disappeared.