Читать книгу ALWAYS IS FOREVER - Margaret Hawley - Страница 5

Life on the farm was a big change, but a good one. We children had only each other with whom to play, which resulted in our being very close. My family would often take a picnic lunch out to a pond that was nestled in a valley near the house, and we would sometimes spend the whole afternoon paddling around in the water, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine and our leisure time together. My father patiently taught me and Barbara to dog paddle, and soon we were swimming all over, while our little brother watched from the edge, often trying to venture deeper, but being carefully watched by our mother. Our father would let us take turns riding around in the water on his back. Sometimes we would stay at the pond and watch the sun go down. However, we were vehemently told to never go in the water without our parents being with us. Unfortunately, my sister and I disobeyed this order and caused a near tragedy.

One hot, lazy summer day Barbara and I decided we wanted to go out to the pond by ourselves, so I went in the house to ask permission to do this, “Mom, may Barbara and I go to the pond to see if there are any ducks swimming around in the water? We know you don’t want us to go swimming, and we won’t. Please, may we go?”

My mother considered my request for a minute then answered, “I guess you may go, but remember to obey the no-swimming rule. Don’t stay too long.”

We went skipping through the pasture towards the pond, anticipating an enjoyable afternoon. When we came upon the pond, the diamond-like sparkles created by the sun on the surface of the water made the pond look very inviting. We thought we would just put our toes in the water, although we knew we shouldn’t do even that. With our hands entwined, we gradually crept ever deeper into the cool liquid that was lapping at our ankles, the mud on the bottom squishing between our toes. All of a sudden Barbara’s feet slid on the slippery mud bottom, and she lost her footing. The slope was steeper than we expected and she quickly disappeared under the water. Her grip of my hand tightened when she fell, pulling me down into the water. Then suddenly I realized Barbara no longer was holding onto my hand. I frantically searched for her, all the while fighting to keep my head above the water.

At first I could not find her, but after feeling all around, my hand felt her shirt. I grabbed it and clung as tightly as I could. She began fighting me, which caused me to lose my hold on her shirt. I held my breath and went under the water with my eyes open. I could see her lying on the bottom, now very still. I wound my fingers in her hair and struggled to stand upright. Then, with all the strength I could muster, I pulled her limp body to shore.

“Breathe, Barbara, breathe,” I screamed at my sister. I frantically shook her and slapped her cheeks, but she remained unresponsive. “What should I do? Should I leave you and go for help; should I keep working with you? Barbara, please wake up.” I grabbed her shoulders and shook her as hard as I could. Suddenly she started to cough and fight for air. After struggling for what seemed a long time, her breathing became normal and her eyes opened. I collapsed on the ground beside her, my entire body trembling.

“What happened?” Barbara asked, her voice barely audible.

“You nearly drowned, is what happened. You fell and went under the water and let loose of my hand. It took me a while to find you. I’ve never been so scared in my life. That’s what we get for disobeying our mother by going into the water alone when we know we have been told over and over to never do that. Mom will know we were in the lake when we come in with wet clothes. We are going to be in big trouble.”

“I was really scared when I fell under the water and my feet kept slipping on the muddy bottom when I tried to stand. I couldn’t get my breath, and then you let go of me. All of a sudden everything went black.”

“I didn’t let go of you,” I shouted. “You let go of me. I couldn’t find you at first, and then I got hold of your shirt, but you were fighting me so much that you got away. Finally I was able to grab your hair and pull you to shore. Luckily we’re both okay now. Let’s sit here in the sun and let our clothes dry.”

Barbara stretched out on her back and let the sunshine cover the full length of her body. “We often spend time out her watching the ducks and listening to the birds. If our clothes are dry when we go in, Mom will think that’s what we’ve been doing. We do have to promise ourselves that we will never go into the water alone again. It might be you, Marcie, who nearly drowns the next time, and maybe I won’t be as successful as you were.”

We were thankful that our afternoon escapade did not end tragically and that we were both able to eventually walk back to the house and look forward to more warm sunny days, having learned our lesson about obeying our mother.

One of our favorite pastimes was sliding on the chicken house roof, where we would spend hours, often wearing out our shoes in the process. We would climb to the peak of the roof, stand straight and zoom down the sloped roof onto a flat one, which broke our decent. Our mother would glance out a window every so often to make sure we were safe.

Hanging from a high limb on a tree was a long rope swing, and because it was so long, the swing would carry the swinger high among the leaves when the person pushing the swing ran under it, giving a big thrust. Many hours of our days were spent taking turns pushing and swinging. There was also a long board balanced on a rope swing in a mulberry tree in another corner of our large yard. I would sometimes lie on that board and gently swing to and fro as I watched white clouds of imaginary figures float by. Once, while climbing in the mulberry tree, I was suddenly pecked on the head by a blue jay for innocently getting too close to its nest.

Although we had a car, when the leaves began to change colors and the days grew short, my father would hitch up the horse and buggy that was left with the farm when it was purchased, and off we would go to the woods to gather walnuts, hickory and hazel nuts. Rays of sunshine streaming down on us through the many-colored leaves kept us warm in the cool fall air as we scurried around filling our buckets with nuts. We knew the fun we would have and how good the nuts would taste next winter when we pulled out our nut quilt, a small quilt made for us to sit on when we cracked nuts in the house in the winter time when the wind howled outside and snow blanketed the earth.

The walk to school in the winter often was very difficult. The snow would be deep and the air frigid. Sometimes it would be necessary for us to stop at a neighbor’s house to warm up before we could continue on. It was difficult to trudge through the deep snow, but we had to go to school, and walking was how we usually got there.

In the spring when the road would turn to mud, my sister and I would climb a fence and walk in a pasture where there would be newborn calves almost every day. The mother cows would eye us warily as we passed, but as long as we kept walking and never went near the calves, there was no problem or danger.

If it was raining hard, our father would sometimes take us to school with the horse and buggy, since our car could not traverse the road without getting stuck in the mud. The horse had no trouble going up the hill in the morning, but when we were picked up after school the horse slipped and slid going down the steep hill, its back legs almost going out from under it, which was very frightening.

One summer my father bought a pony for us. It was spotted brown and white and very gentle. I learned to place the saddle on its back and tighten the cinch. We would even ride it backwards hanging onto its tail. When I would ride the pony down the road, I would have to coax it to go, but when I turned it around to come back, it was all I could do to keep it trotting rather than galloping as fast as it could as it headed back home. It was impossible to make it go on past the driveway. No matter how tight the reins were pulled to keep its head straight, into the driveway it would turn.

When school was out for the summer, we rarely saw our friends except on Saturday night in town unless we should happen to ride our horse over for a visit, which Barbara and I decided to do one sunny afternoon. The friends lived two miles away, and we made it there without incident. After a fun-filled afternoon, we mounted the pony and started home. As usual, the pony was happy to be going home and took off in a gallop. I knew our friends were watching us go galloping off, and I was feeling proud of the way I could handle the pony. All of a sudden something on the side of the road frightened the pony, and it came to an abrupt halt. Barbara, who was riding behind the saddle with her arms around my waist, started to fall off the pony. She hung on tightly to me, and we both ended up in a heap on the ground, with me no longer proud of myself but very embarrassed. We could see our friends still standing in their yard watching us. Neither Barbara nor I wanted to get back on the pony. Instead, we walked, leading it all the two miles home.

We loved to sit in the shade of our house on a summer evening when the sun was low in the west and shell peas or snap beans with our mother. This was a special time for us when she would tell stories about her childhood in Illinois. Summer was always a busy time for our mother with all the work in the garden, canning its produce, along with raising chickens, while still finding time to plant flowers along the garden fence and meet the family’s many needs. Having her sit still, even though she was working with the peas and beans, was a real treat for us, and we hung onto her every word as she mesmerized us with her stories. Times like this with my mother as well as my car-free days were about to end because of events beyond control.