Continued ....

Sissy and I attended school at Mountain View. There were kids from age seven to eighteen. We didn’t go to school like most folks. Instead of starting in September and going for eight months, we would attend for only a month or so at a time. When there was planting, or harvesting to be done on the farm, we were taken out of school. As soon as the farming was done, we’d return to school for a few more months, until it was time again to do something else on the farm. It was really hard getting an education in those days, especially being poor farm people.

When we did attend school; we all played games, even the teacher. She was usually just eighteen or so, and with only an eighth-grade education. Being a teacher was a good job and many a young girl left her education early to teach others.

Our school supplies were simple. One nickel tablet and a penny pencil. We carried our dinner in a syrup bucket which most of the time consisted of brown beans, soy beans or cold fried potatoes.

Sissy and I usually had the least for dinner, so we would go off by ourselves to eat. Being poor didn’t mean we lacked pride. We had plenty of that!

I remember how casually we would walk away from the school house carrying our dinner pails as if they were heavy with good food. Once we reached a grove of tall weeds, we spent the entire noon hour pretending we were eating. Sometimes other kids would throw away big pieces of cake and when no one was looking we would pick them up, brush off the dirt and ants and then eat to our hearts content.

Our drinking water came from a spring about half a mile from the school house, we took turns filling the water container. Usually two kids would go to the spring.

Sometimes the spring that was the closest would go dry and we’d have to walk almost a mile further for water.

I liked it when it was our turn for two reasons. One was a bush called Spicewood, which grew in abundance along the path. We would break off a small limb and chew on the end as we made our way to the spring. The more we chewed, the softer it became. When it was soft enough, we’d brush our teeth with it. Maybe, that’s why I have such good teeth today.

The second reason, we had to pass an old apple orchard and we’d always stop and get apples to eat.  Many times Sissy and I would hide an apple in our pocket. Knowing we’d just have more beans or fried potatoes for supper, we’d save our treat until we were in bed. Then, we’d eat it as quietly and as slowly as we could. We even ate the core.

I remember one day several of the boys, teenagers, decided to dig out a yellow jackets nest that had been built in the ground. As I stood hidden behind a tree, watching, the sun danced on something in the grass. I ran from my hiding spot and picked up the shiny object. It was a gold wedding band. It was so pretty. I had never seen one before, let alone held one in my hand. All the way home that day, I shined the ring with spit and my shirt tail.

The next day, I brought it back to school. During recess as I held it in the palm of my hand the sun again caught the golden ring in it’s light.

“Whatcha got there Edith?” A boy named Billy Stafford had snuck up behind me and seen my  treasure.

“It’s a wedding ring, a real gold wedding ring,” I proudly replied.

“Whatcha need with a wedding band?” He asked.  Before I could answer he dug deep in his pants pocket and pulled out two little bottles. One was red, one green, both filled with water.

“Edith, I’ll trade you these fine bottles of ink for your ring.” He smiled as he held the two bottles before me. The sun seemed also to dance on them. I looked at the fine good wedding band in my palm then to the two pretty bottles in his hand.

“Gotta think on it,” I said as I turned and ran toward the wood shed behind the school house.

“Last chance Edith,” Billy called out to me. Before I reached the shed, I had made up my mind. I quickly raced back to Billy standing just where I had left him and held out my hand.

“Here.” I said. His eyes twinkled as he placed the two tiny bottles in my outstretched palm; replacing the gold wedding band. Later as I walked home I carefully examined the bottles. They weren’t much bigger around than a lead pencil and about two inches tall. The more I looked at that colored water, the prettier it became.

When I got home, I told Gooby about my trade. She flew into a rage, swinging her arms around and pelting me with her filthy hands. I’m sure Billy didn’t get into any trouble when he arrived at his home with the gold wedding band.

                                *

I managed to enjoy school, even with all the hardships involved with attending. In the winter when it was cold, Sissy and I suffered just going to and from. We didn’t have any shoes to wear and walking through the snow and sleet was miserable.

I can still feel the sting of the sleet; tiny needles, hitting my face, which seemed to take bites out of my skin.

Sometimes our feet felt like blocks of ice. They would get so cold that as we walked along the frozen ground, sharp pains in our toes often made us cry.

Sissy had an old sock cap and when our feet got so cold we couldn’t stand it any longer, she’d take the cap and out our feet into it. I remember so many times, she’d put my feet; which had turned blue-white from the cold, between her hands and rub and rub.

“It’s alright,” she’d say. When I think back, I can see there were many times her own feet were freezing, yet she always warmed my feet first.

As soon as our feet had warmed up a bit, we would race off through the cold as fast as we could go. Sissy and I had to stop so often though that usually we were late for school and had to stay inside at recess with our nose in a circle drawn on the chalkboard. I really didn’t mind the circle; I just hated standing there with my back side to the other kids.

It’s strange now when I recall, how walking through the snow to school was a terrible trauma, yet playing in the white drifts were a delight. Sissy and I would take a old rocking chair up a steep hill when the snow was real deep, get into it and then slide all the way to the bottom. Such fun!

Catching rabbits in the snow was fun also; we could easily see their little tracks and carefully followed them. Though we never once caught one, we spent many an enjoyable hour trying.