The simple things
When I was growing up, Daddy was a sharecropper farmer. Our entertainment was a spirited red mule who occasionally brought a truck of tobacco to the barn without a driver. We all would climb the tobacco racks to get out of his way. Also, there might be a watermelon under the tobacco to enjoy. And there were the trips to the country store for snacks. My favorite was an Orange Crush drink and Nabs.
One day a week, my mother, sister and I helped a neighbor put in tobacco. He paid us 40 cent per hour or $4 a day. We saved our money to buy material for mother to make our school dresses on her Singer pedal sewing machine.
We had no indoor plumbing and no television. We had a radio and would listen to “The Lone Ranger” and “Squeaking Door” while we shook our jars of cream to make butter. We had chickens and hogs, a cow and a vegetable garden, so we always had plenty to eat.
Even though we were poor, we never thought so. I am so thankful that while growing up I learned to appreciate the simple things of life.
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