Читать книгу Bedtime Stories for the Child in You - Louise D. Jewell - Страница 8

My early years were lived in the tiny village of Cascades, close to the town of Wakefield where I was born in rural Québec. Our family knew everyone. And everyone knew us.

God forbid, if you dared do anything naughty while away from home. Because in those days, you were sure to get ratted on.

But then again, there wasn’t much I could do that was wicked. Except when I decided to run away from home with my big sister. I must have been three years old and Big Sis was maybe five. My travel companion adorned herself with Mommy’s baubles while I stuffed cookies into a small paper bag.

How did we escape?

We waited for Mom to nap with our baby brother. And when the coast was clear, we slipped out the side door of the house. There we were, partners in crime. Sis glittered in jewels while I licked crumbs off my lips.

Life was good. And we were off on an adventure.

We lived right beside the train tracks in those days. And that’s exactly what we were walking on. The train tracks. An active train track, I might add.

Sadly, our reverie was short-lived. Suddenly, we heard our Mother screaming at the top of her lungs. “Get back here!”

Oops!

I don’t remember what happened next. Likely, we got a good lickin’. So much for our travel plans.

Poor Mom. By that time, she had five children all under ten. She was one very busy lady. Oh, and about my small town? It was more like a village. A village that is now famous. If you have ever seen the movie Grey Owl, starring Pierce Brosnan, you will see where I grew up. The movie was shot approximately six hundred feet away from my childhood home, in what used to be a train station.

So what’s the big deal about the movie Grey Owl? It is based on the true story of Archibald Belaney, an Englishman who, as a young boy, dreamed of living as a North American Indian. And he did just that.

A story, by the way, that I devoured as a teenager.

So there you go. My story of what it was like living in a small village.

When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they’re finished, I climb out.

~ Erma Bombeck