God's Green Earth...
Is there any writer who has not shared the happiness of rural living and delighted himself/herself and their readers with the melody of the birds, the whisper of the wind, and the voice of the brooks and streams…?
I was born a country girl. I grew up a country girl and I am Still a country girl. I love to go barefoot in the summer, feel the wind and sunshine brush across my face, and breathe fresh country air. I love the sounds of the cricket and katydid on a warm summer’s night. There is nothing any more peaceful than sitting on my front porch with my first cup of morning coffee, listening to a choir of birds singing and watch as the sun comes creeping up over the horizon. God sure can paint a beautiful picture with those sunrises. If there were anything more beautiful than a sunrise, it would be a sunset.
My life growing up on the “Knob” was a joyful time. We were poor but we didn’t have any idea we were. We were thankful for what we had and felt blessed when we got something new. Then again, how do you measure wealth? We didn’t have very much money, but we had a storehouse filled with love. Love for our home, our family, friends, and neighbors, and for God. Our playground was the woods, streams, and hollows, around our home. It was a delight to wake up every morning and hurry to finish the chores so you could have the day free to roam. Of course, we knew our boundaries. There was always a cutting off line to how far we could roam. Any broken rules would eventually catch up with us and then there was a stiff penalty to pay. My parents believed to spare the rod, spoiled the child…So, they spared no rod.
I wish everyone could have lived on a dirt road for at least a short time during his or her lifetime. In the summer, you ate dust. In the winter, you had to dodge mud holes. You also had to learn how to straddle the hump in the middle of the road being careful that the car’s oil pan did not scrape the piled up gravel and rocks. To do so may put a hole in your oil pan. Everyone looked forward to the time when the road grader would come by scraping the road and spreading new gravel. At least, it would mean a smooth ride for a little while before the gravel settled down.
The Knob was home to several small farms. It was a place where most folks lived by the “Golden Rule” and practiced the open door policy. Most homes did not have a key to any door of their house, barn, or out buildings. They didn’t need one.
During the summer, any stranger who became lost was directed back to the right road and given a carload of garden vegetables to take home. Lifelong friendships were established that way and there were those who came back year after year to get more of those garden vegetables and share stories with their newly found country friends.My father owned a small country store on that dirt road. It was a favorite gathering place for the men of the community to spend an hour or two enjoying a cold pepsi, a slab of bologna, a slice of Colby cheese,and small box crackers. They ate while discussin,’ politickin,’ and raisin’ crops. I have seen many politicians take office carried by the opinion of the customers who argued politics at, Bud Johnson’s Country General.
It was where I learned the pros and cons of getting a good education…. Each of those men taught me something about, “Country Wisdom,” things I would never have learned from a textbook. “Little girl, learn to do things fer yeself,” one old farmer advised me. “Two reasons why ye wanna do that, one is ye will get satisfaction knowing ye can do it, and the other is; ye can save yeself a whole lot o’ money along the way.” That was strong advice and I learned quickly in life they were right.
Rural people were quite judgmental. They had their own way of “putting things.” In describing a person’s ability to learn you might hear them use phrases such as, “that boy’s dumber than a stump” or “she’s wiser than a tree full-a-owls.” My favorite one is, “the barn’s there but the haymow’s empty.”
They also had their own way of expressing their religious beliefs…As one wise old gent once told me; “It ain’t nothing more peaceful on God’s green earth than to sit at my pond with a fishing pole and a can of worms, watching a sunset, and listening to the birds. If that’s all that God has fer me to do in Heaven, it will be good enough fer me. I don’t need nothing much; but I will take all that the good Lord sees fit to give me…”
More than fifty years have passed since those days. The little country store no longer exists, all the old farmers are gone, and the road is now a paved highway. Sometimes, I close my eyes and let my memories carry me back to those peaceful days when life was less complicated.Growing up in that little corner of God's green earth gave me a treasure chest overflowing with memories... and I know that one day when my life is finished I will see those sweet men again. The way I see it, they will have a whole new batch of stories to tell me.
Bud's Ole' Country Store
An old wooden building all weather worn,
Handmade ads, showing peaches and corn,
Smoking tobacco, matches,and pipes,
Cast iron skillets and coal oil lights.
Wooden handles for axes and rakes,
A variety of spices for making cakes,
Rinso Blue and ivory bar soaps,
Bubble gum, juicy fruit, and jumping ropes.
Bologna and crackers, peppermint candy,
Pretty hair bows for looking fine and dandy,
Biscuit pans and cookie cutters,
Jelly in a jar and peanut butter.
Times change, it happens to us all,
But days of my childhood I still recall,
How I loved those folks who came by the score,
To purchase their goods at Bud Johnson's store.
Walk with God,
Mary Frances King
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