Posted by blamethebanjo on Wednesday, December 17, 2008
During the bleak years of the depression of the thirties my mother lived in rural Kentucky in a small house with her parents and her seven sisters. The girls worked as sharecroppers when they became old enough and money was scarce there in the bottoms of the Green River. The house tried it's best to keep the bitter wind out but cracks in the walls invited the wind and snow in. Newspapers tacked to the walls helped little and the dirt floor was as cold as ice.
There was no television or telephone. There was an old radio someone gave them that was powered by an older car battery. The Grand Ole Opry filled the house with glorius music for a short time. As the old battery gave out the girls would take turns learning how to play their mother's small Supertone guitar. Soon their voices would ring across the bottom land in such sweet tones that neighboors in hearing distance would drift toward the sound.
One of the listeners was a blonde, stout young man riding a horse who was captivated with by the black haired girl singing lead and playing the guitar. It was in this setting they met and years later they became my parents. Today that same guitar sits in my bedroom with it's humble appearance it reminds me of my own humble begining. My love of music might have been inspired by that old guitar.
Today I look at the instruments surounding me and doubt that I am greatful enough. But it was a wooden bowl of oranges that is sitting on our table that made my mind go back to that cold little house at the edge of the woods. A cold December night when those sisters were too excited to sleep. Their mother would try in vain to quiet the giggling until finally one by one the Sandman did his job.
When they at last gave in to slumber Momma made sure they were all asleep. She quietly placed the presents under the little cedar tree. Lit only by candle light the little tree with it's homemade ornaments took on a flickering, dancing glow that made her think how so little can become so much at this time of year.
"Ho Ho Ho" rang out loud and clear as the first sister to awaken shook the next one until each one was awake and running to the tree. The excitement was contageous as they spun around dancing with joy. "Where is Santa? they asked Momma.
Why he is too fast for you sleepy heads, she told them. He is flying away to deliver more gifts this very instance. When the word was given each girl ripped the newspaper wrapping and green yarn off their gifts. It was a wonderful morning and they couldn't have been happier. Each present was exactly the same as the next. All the sisters had been gifted each a single orange.
15 comments on “A Bowl Of Oranges”
BvilleDon Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @6:02:09 PM
Another gfreat blog.
STAY HERE. IT IS WHERE YOU BELONG!
blamethebanjo Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @6:15:07 PM
Thanks my friend. I wish I had listened to my Mother's stories closer. She had so many.
Barbie_ Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @6:25:31 PM
Hey you...hang around this time!!! :)
blamethebanjo Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @6:39:20 PM
I promise!
joemac Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @7:42:43 PM
well look who,s here.......man its good to see you back!! happy xmas mate....Joe
blamethebanjo Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @8:00:52 PM
Thanks Joe,
It sure comes around fast doesn't it?
FiddlerFaddler Says:
Wednesday, December 17, 2008 @9:53:54 PM
So life is not just a bowl of cherries, I reckon.
muntjac Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @4:54:42 AM
Welcome back Darrell....... nice sentiments we should all remember and never forget our humble begginnings. Have a good Christmas .......... Ian
rinemb Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @5:15:03 AM
A story my mother could have told as well, though her many brothers were able to hunt and fish and odd-job it to ease the burdens a bit.
I'm afraid we have made a mess of the Season with our commercialization.
Brad
blamethebanjo Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @5:51:08 AM
Thank you all, Fiddle, Ian and Brad.
For your remarks and friendship.
kentr Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @5:54:41 AM
Great story,
It does help to be thankful for what you do have.
Wow, seven sisters, that's a lot of giggles.
inniepie Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @6:08:51 AM
What a lovely story - you should submit that one to Chicken Soup For the Soul!
blamethebanjo Says:
Thursday, December 18, 2008 @6:52:21 AM
Thanks Kent and Innie, Their story would make a great book some would find it hard to believe that people lived like that. When those girls sang it sounded like Heaven. It is a shame they never recorded. They were so talented.
kcjc69 Says:
Saturday, December 20, 2008 @1:34:49 AM
Darrell- Great Post!
My Dad tells stories of his humble beginnings around Uniontown, KY. Today too many forget how hard life was then and how the simpliest of things were the most precious.
blamethebanjo Says:
Saturday, December 20, 2008 @10:08:48 AM
Thanks Jim, when Mom would talk about how hard things were it was almost unbelievable. One of her sisters died one winter and her Mother died soon after. Hard to imagine the sorrow.
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