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I
could not imagine having my very own wind chime. I could not explain
the reason my Papaw decided that I should own a wind chime. As a child
I thought, yeah, wonderful, he gave me a wind chime. Gee thanks so
much. But, as I pulled it out of the box that my Papaw carefully
wrapped the wind chime in, the sound was beyond anything that my young
ears had ever heard.
This
magical moment of sound was forever embedded into my sub-conscious. I
have often thought back to that moment, looking up at that wind chime
and hearing for the first time the most beautiful music that can only
be described as "Heavenly". A quick glance up at my Papaw's eyes,
glistening with tears, and I new something special had happened to
change my life forever.
That
Heavenly wind chime profoundly affected me. For some strange reason it
gave me a new sense of well being. I felt totally safe and at peace
when it chimed. I think my Papaw new that home was not a safe place for
me. In his own way, I believe he was giving me some of his strength
that I could carry with me, to fall upon for courage when times were
trying. All I know is that Heavenly wind chime many a time helped me
though troubled times of not knowing where to go or how to get there.
When confused, lonely, afraid, or just needing a lift, all I ever had
to do was listening to my heavenly wind chime from my Papaw.
Years
passed and I learned a great deal of useful things from my Papaw. We
planted rows and rows of tomatoes, each having to be hand watered from
fifty gallon barrels, set on top a wooden skid pulled by a worn out
tractor, filled with water that had to be hand pumped from a nearby
water well. We made weekly trips to the chicken house to ring the necks
of hens. The huge black iron kettle was set on the burning embers to bring
the water to boil, while we waited for the blood to drain from the
throats of the chickens. The smell of the feather's being burnt off
the chickens is still in my nostrils. Then we were off to the house to
finish cleaning and packing the chicken's to place in the freezer for
later.
The
hogs were loud as we threw the corn cobs and scrapes from the supper
table into their troughs. We sprinkled lime on the plies of new
potatoes in the potato bend. Together, with ever a keen eye, my Papaw
and I hoed acres of purple hull peas and butterbeans.
I
dragged behind me a burlap sack that stretched out a good four feet
behind me, down a row of crowder peas that seemed to never end.
These
were a few of the things I learned from my Papaw, hard work lends to a
good nights sleep, always pop that blister, wood rats are huge, gofers
don't belong in the garden, opossums hiss and have sharp teeth, hogs
are nasty, nothing beats fried chicken, purple hull peas, cornbread,
mashed potatoes and gravy, served with slices of tomatoes, green
onions, and iced tea.
If you would like to hear more stories, please e-mail me at info@itsaboutchime.com
Author: Teresa Richardson, Owner
http://www.itsaboutchime.com
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