My Tricycle

A few years ago I tried to think back as far as I could to see what my earliest memory would be. To the best of my knowledge, it my Daddy walking from the road with a red tricycle in his left hand. I got so excited. He had bought it just for me. I was three or four years old at the time.

Daddy had hitched a ride home with someone on a car, and they let him out at the road. I'm sure he bought the tricycle in Opp, AL. I felt so special to have my very own tricycle.

The picture above is of me on my treasured possession. My brother, Herschel, was hovering over me to get in the picture. Notice his grin. Herschel and Hoyt were, and still are, my older brothers. I was the baby and the only girl in the family.

I remember the tricycle had a place on the back where a person could stand on it and ride with me. It was a fun way to ride with a friend close behind.

My Baby Bassinet

My Baby Bassinet

The old bassinet sat in a prominent place in the Texas dining room of our daughter and son-in-law's home. This time it wasn't holding a precious baby so dear, but rather a quilt I had made for our daughter when she was a child. Still to see it flooded my mind with memories of years gone by. It would be interesting to know how many precious little ones have slept in that old bassinet. I was among the first so I lay claim to that beauty. Mother let others borrow the bassinet through the years always with the promise of returning it.

As a child my cousins and I played on the frame of the bassinet. One of us would sit on the rod right below the handle with our feet on the other rod across from it. One cousin would push while the other rode. I remember the time Mama spotted us and said, "You're going to tear it up." Somehow we cared and didn't want to do that, so we stopped riding on the bassinet frame. From that day forward the old bassinet became a treasure to be handled with great care.

This year we spent Christmas with our daughter, Stephanie, and her family. It was in their dining room that I spotted the bassinet standing ever so proudly beside the large china cabinet. A piece of history resting right beside a new expensive piece of furniture. I looked at it and saw the quilt I had made for Stephanie when she was a little girl. Memories flooded my mind as I recalled sitting in our Birmingham preacher's home piecing the quilt top and later quilting it. I looked at the paint on the bassiet and remembered well when Douglas and I chose the pink, blue and white paint and then painted the bassinet. We were expecting a baby in April 1969, and back then we had no way of knowing what sex the child would be, so we painted the bassinet pink and blue for either. Our Stephanie was the first of our children to rest in the bassinet. Later on our son, Art, had it for his first bed at home. Ah, the memories that flooded my mind as I once again recalled the past with my bassinet. Through the years it has continued to hold those newborns who are special to us. Stephanie has used it with her two children. No doubt in a few years it will be called on again as those daughters grow up, marry and have children of their own. And somewhere in the distance I think I will smile and be proud.

Cotton Picking Time

"When I was a little bitty baby, my mama would rock me in the cradle, in them ol' cotton fields back home...." has always been a favorite song on mine. I seldom pass a cotton field without at some point breaking into that song, much to the shagrin of those in the vehicle with me.



Beautiful white cotton fields are very special to me. At one point in our travels I was bold enough to stop and ask a farmer if I could have a few stalks of cotton to make an arrangement in Doug's old milk can. Today as the cotton fields are being harvested in our area, I again want a few stalks for decorating. Cotton fields and I go back a long way.



I started to Elba High School in the eighth grade, after having gone to Curtis School through grades 1-7. It didn't take me long to become an Elba Tiger fan. The school passed out a form that we could buy a black and gold Elba Tiger jacket for $8.00, and I wanted one. They were brand new, shiney, and a jacket to be desired by any student who was a Tiger fan. I'd never had anything that pretty before. The only problem was we were poor and we didn't have the money to pay for a new jacket.



Mother always looked for ways to make money. She knew of my desire for the Elba Tiger jacket. She remembered our neighbor had a cotton field he had planted, and yes, he was looking for anybody that would help pick his cotton. Mother signed us up. In the afternoons after school we headed for the cotton field. I remember to this day having that cotton sack draped over my body. That was the longest thing I had ever seen dragging behind me and he expected me to fill it up one cotton bowl at a time. I didn't know if I could do it or not, but I knew I only had to pick enough to earn $8.00 and I could get my brand new Elba Tiger jacket. So I picked, and I picked, and I picked, and at the end of the day we headed for the scales. The elderly man weighed my cotton and I didn't have enough the first day, so I had to come back day after day until I reached my goal. Finally I did reach my goal and I guess I've never been prouder of anything than my Tiger jacket. I wore it with great pride.



One of the joys I remember especially about those cotton picking days was the day they asked me if I would like to get up on the wagon full of cotton. I did, and I climbed to the very top. It was so soft. The smell of the freshly picked cotton was a smell I treasure to this day. I think I'll go find a farmer and ask for a few stalks of cotton from his field. I'll pick that cotton and cup it in my hands tightly, lift it to my nose and once again enjoy the smell of freshly picked cotton. And when you come for a visit, I'll have it in a covered container for you to enjoy too. Perhaps you will have a cotton-picking tale to share.



Picture Credit: Cotton field in Basin community near Elba, AL. By: Glenda Williams

I THOUGHT OF YOU TODAY, DADDY

I thought of you today, Daddy,

As I so often do;

The man had a cap on his head,

And he looked exactly like you.

Of course he was in the distance,

So I watched him as he walked.

I remembered you at that time in life,

And could even hear you talk.

I often search crowds of people,

To see someone who reminds me of you;

I watch their wave, their walk, their size,

To see if the resemblance is true.

If I could only hold on forever,

To the memories we shared back then;

I would recall them over and over,

And enjoy them all over again.

So I'll keep on searching for someone

Who looks exactly like you;

Then I'll smile and remember,

And enjoy the memory all anew.

And when I arrive on the other shore,

I'll be looking for you,

Enjoying the bliss of Heaven

Way up beyond the blue.

- Glenda Williams

January 8, 2007