Family

I believe that every family is unique. They come in a variety of flavors, usually inherited from their parents and grandparents.

My family seldom argued in front of us or used bad language. Mama wouldn’t allow alcohol in the house. She read the Bible to us and prayed before we went to bed. We were in church when the doors were open.

By today’s standards, we may have been poor, but we never lacked food, clothing, or heat. We had an outhouse and heated water on the kitchen stove for Saturday night baths. In the wintertime Ruthie and I heated a couple of bricks on the hot coal stove before going to bed. Wrapped in a towel, we put them under three or four quilts. Sleeping in an ice-cold room was a way of life.

On wash day we laid dish towels and wash cloths on bushes because we ran out of clothesline. If we didn’t have something and couldn’t afford it, we made do. We never ate out – too expensive. 

At the end of the day, music brightened our house with southern gospel songs written in four-part harmony and bass leads. My oldest sister, Doris, played the piano and sang alto, Daddy sang bass, and I sang soprano. We were happy.