My Favorite Christmas Memory

When I was growing up Christmas was a time you got what you needed more than you got what you wanted.  When I think of christmas I recall the smell of apples, oranges, and candy canes.  My favorite uncle, uncle Aaron, always bought a big box of apples and a big box of oranges, a tradition carried on from the days of their childhood, when apples, oranges and a candy cane were what they got for Christmas.  This was the only time of the year,other than summer, when they were picked fresh off the tree, that we had apples to eat.

My mother was the breadwinner of the family, and she worked at US Motors, in Philadelphia, MS, often working double shifts, just to make ends meet.

Toys were something we never got a lot of, but rather my mother taught me to make dolls from the purple flowers of the Maypop plant that came in spring, and every summer when we had a garden, corn, with it's different colored silks of red, blonde, and black, became my dolls.  I never lacked for anything, because we used our imagination to make up for what we did not have in the material world.

One year I went shopping with my mother at Williamsville grocery in Philadelphia, MS.  They also carried a line of clothing, so while my mother shopped for food, I looked at clothes.  On a rack in the back was a beautiful, white, rabbit fur jacket that caught my eye.  I showed it to my mother, and ask if I could get it, and she told me no, she was sorry, she just didn't have the money.  I didn't throw a fit and jump up and down and cry, I just accepted the fact that she could not afford it, and forgot about it.

When Christmas rolled around I had three presents under the tree, and like most kids, I squeezed, shook and tried to feel what was inside the wrapping paper, but couldn't. On Christmas day I opened up the biggest box first, and there inside was the white, rabbit fur jacket, my mother could not afford to buy for me.  The other two presents were books; Little Women, and a White Zipp up Bible that matched my jacket perfectly.  Though ragged and worn, I still own the Bible, and treasure it today, as much as I did then, not only because it matched my Jacket, but for the words written inside. I treasure the memory of the jacket, because I know how hard it must have been for my mother to buy it for me.

Looking back I feel blessed that I grew up poor, as most everyone around here did.  People knew what Christmas was about celebrating the birth of Christ, and you could actually find wrapping paper that had the words Merry Christmas written on it.  People didn't push and shove each other or trample others to death trying to be the first to get the latest gadget on sale, they were thankful to have food on the table.

Keep in mind as you read this, this was one Christmas out of many, and was more than likely the only Christmas I got what I really wanted.  If you can't do all you want for your kids this year, explain to them why.  Kids understand more than people give them credit for, and when the time comes they do get what they want, they will appreciate it even more.

Teach them that the greatest gift of all was the gift of a baby in a manger, named Jesus.  These things will last long after all the material posessions are gone and forgotten

In Memory of Inie Mae Laird

Born on February 14th, 1911, Ina Mae Laird, fondly know as Inie, entered this world.  At the age of 9 she and her dad began taking long walks in the woods and shared the joys of smoking a corn cob pipe.  She later on swapped from the pipe to Garrett's snuff, which she continued to enjoy,  until she passed away a virgin at the ripe old age of 93.

She stood about 5';4" and her hair, which came almost to her waist, was kept plaited, and put into a bun on the back of her head. Her legs never felt the warmth of a pair of pants, as wearing pants was a sin, but she always wore a thick pair of stockings that always seemed to be rolled right below her knee.  Sometimes her dresses covered the stockings and sometimes they didn't. She had one eye that was a little crossed so outwardly she wasn't a beauty queen, but inside lay a heart of gold.

Although she was born on Valentine's day, she never experienced the kiss of a man, and never seemed to regret that fact.  She was courted a couple of times, once by a known alcoholic, which she promptly chased off with a broom stick.  She was happy in her own little world, and didn't care if she ever left the house.  She attended church every Sunday, and Wednesday night prayer meetings, but other than that she complained if she had to go anywhere.

 Mom worked a full time job, sometimes double shifts, and Aunt Inie saw to the washing of the clothes, the dishes, and watching after us kids when we came in from school (she survived 8 of us).

Like most homemakers she sometimes got lonely, which is why, I suspect, she let me stay home from school occassionaly to watch Captain Kangaroo, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Family Affair.  I was happy to see my favorite shows and she was happy to have company.

I can still see her hand fly to her mouth to catch the Garrett's snuff dripping out the side as she tried to stifle a giggle, which she did quite often. 

Some man, somewhere, missed a beautiful wife, and I'm glad he did.

Rest in Peace Inie Mae Laird, you may be gone, but not forgotten.

In Search of Prince Charming!

Copyright 2010

Linda Gentry Way

The other day a friend ask me to post my favorite cartoon character on my Facebook page to bring awareness to child abuse.  Since I have been waiting all my life for my Pepe Le’ Pue, naturally I had to post his picture, and then it dawned on me; my perfect man is a skunk.

Later my son comes to me, and is confused, because a girl he has been seeing has told him she loves him, and he is like, “She doesn’t even know me!”  So we sat down and had a little heart to heart and I had to explain females to him.

There seems to be a big disconnect in life as to what the perfect mate is.  Most little girls are brought up to believe in the pie in the sky fairy-tale, where your handsome, perfect prince, rides up on his white horse (or in a 2010 Super Cobrajet Mustang) and carries you off into the sunset, on the way to his castle, (fully equipped with maids, and all the money you will ever need), then gets down on his hands and knees and presents you with a Tiffany Embrace soilitary engagement ring that is so large your finger can barely hold it up, wipes his eyes from pure joy as you walk down the aisle in your Jesus Peiro wedding dress, with every dignitary there, (and also every person that has ever wronged you in your life, and made you feel like the ugly duckling), takes you into his arms, lays you across a beautiful Ego Paris canopy bed, covered in rose petals, and makes mad passionate love to you every night for the rest of your life, (only stopping long enough to bear your lovely, perfect children, that grow up in a home filled with nothing but love and laughter, until the day comes that they meet their perfect mate and ride off into the sunset) with no problems, no worries, only your love for each other; a love so deep that even death can not separate you. (Which reminds me of one of my favorite poems, Annabel Lee, by Edgar Allen Poe).

WAIT…………STOP………..HERE ENTERS THE CLASSIC BAD BOY…….

 Edgar Allen Poe, (a struggling writer that gambled, drank too much, dabbled with Opium, (some say he was a mad man) and was so poor at one time that he had to burn his furniture to keep warm. I think I am in love!

What happened?  How did I go from looking for my Mr. Perfect nice guy (sent down from Heaven to rescue me), to the perfect bad boy, (that I need to rescue)?  Probably much the same way it happens to most everyone.

I thought I had met my perfect prince when I was a teenager.  He always left love notes on my door, wrote me poetry, and picked me flowers constantly, all the while telling me of his undying love.  However, instead of living happily ever after, I found out he was cheating on me with one of my best friends, and I ended up with a broken heart.  EXIT STAGE LEFT……forget the nice guy, give me a jerk.  At least with a jerk you don’t have to wonder what you have, YOU KNOW,  but at least you can hold out hope that you can rescue him from being HIS HIGHNESS, and bring him down to earth where you reside, and will ever so lovingly change him into the prince charming you have always dreamed about.

NEWS FLASH…………..Calling all young females………………….please stop looking for the fairy tale.  It doesn’t exist.  Prince Charming is really a tin man on a mule, and he isn’t likely to change.  He will want you to cook his supper, bear his children, work a full time job, bring him his Lipton Iced Tea or his Bud Lite beer (depending on whether he is prince charming or Your Highness), act like Mother Theresa in public, and Madonna in the bedroom. You might get the car, you might get the ring, and you might get the bed, but good luck with the perfect prince.

While some may find that perfect mate, it is exceedingly rare.  Love is a lot of hard work, and there is no Mr. Perfect, just like there is no Mrs. Perfect. If it was so easy to find the "perfect" mate, there would not be so many divorces. Like my big sister says, “Love is not a feeling it is a commitment”. She should know, she has been married over 35 years.

And for all you poetry lovers, here is the Poem….

Annabel Lee

By:  Edgar Allen Poe

It was many a many years ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Kids Say and Do the Darndest Things

While going through some old things, I found a speech I wrote for an Oral Communications class, when I attended East Central Community College, in Decatur, MS.

 If you have ever been around kids, you know they can do and say some of the funniest things, usually at exactly the wrong time.

When my niece Stacey was small she was either really sweet or what we called a “Holy Terror”, usually the latter.  I still have a picture of her in my head, sitting in her parents kitchen floor, with Crisco in her hair, looking like a cone head from Saturday Night Live.  If you got up one day and you did not look to good she would be the first to let you know.  One day I won’t forget is the day our family preacher came for a visit.

Stacey was use to seeing “The Reverend Bobby Fergurson” with his hair slicked back, decked out in his Sunday best.  On this particular day he came over in his blue jeans, an old shirt, and his fishing hat.  He came in and sat down at the table and talked for awhile.  Stacey kept looking, and looking, trying to figure out what was different about him.  Finally, after much contemplation, she glanced up at him and ask, “What in the hell is that on your head?” Brother Bobby just laughed, and my sister looked for the nearest hole to crawl in.

My children also had a knack for doing and saying some of the funniest things.  According to the speech I wrote while attending ECCC, this guy named Mitch came over to my house one day (I don’t remember him, but I’m sure he remembers me) and sat down on my couch.  My son, David, who was a little over two years old, started entertaining him.  David ran to his room, and came back out with a "He Man" toy.  David put the "He Man’s" fist out front , and went up to the guy and goes, “Bow, he’ll knock your teeth out.”  The guy didn’t have many teeth as it was, and now he had one less. Mitch was really nice and told me the tooth was loose anyway.  When he showed me the tooth, I fell out laughing.  As usual, the harder I tried not to laugh, the worse it got.  Thank goodness Mitch was a good sport!

On another occasion, my apartment was invaded by crickets.  They were everywhere, and we didn’t want to step on them, so David and I would catch them, and let them go.  However, David did not call them crickets, he had another name for them.

Soon after this I took David to the doctor’s office for a check-up.  The fist thing David said to the doctor was, “We’ve got roaches all over our house.”  I immediately began trying to explain, and only made things worse.  I know the doctor felt my embarrassment, but I don’t think he believed my story about the crickets. 

If you have a funny story you would like to share about your kids, please feel free to do so in the comment section of this blog.