Once Upon the Prairie

“In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be enrolled…3 And all went to be enrolled, each to his own city. 4 And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, 5 to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. 6  And while they were there, the time came for her to be delivered. 7  And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

  8  And in that region there were shepherds out in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. 9  And an angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filed with fear. 10  And the angel said to them, ‘Be not afraid, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will come to all people; 11  for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12  And this will be a sign for you: you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger,” 13  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

14  ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with
     whom he is pleased.’”

                            (Revised Standard Version Luke 2:1, 3-14)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Up the Family Tree

Merry Christmas!

                                                                              by Judy

As Christians we celebrate the birth of Jesus. We will spend Christmas with our families and friends. There will be church services to attend and gatherings with friends to enjoy. On Christmas day there will be stories told of Christmases past. We will hug our grandchildren and enjoy our grown children. We will have good food to eat, Christmas greetings, either on Facebook or on a card to read, and presents to open. We are blessed.

For some, Christmas day will include a call or a Skype session from family members unable to spend Christmas at home. (Technology is a wonderful thing!) Some families have members far away keeping our nation safe. Those absent in our homes will be in our hearts, and as Christians, we will keep them in our prayers. As Christians, too, we pray for those who are hungry, homeless, or alone on Christmas day.

We pray, too, for “peace on earth.”

Storytellers"s Corner

Christmas

                                         by Collette

 

C- means the Christ child and church are at the heart of this word and season to
        me. There is something to be thankful for every day during this time.         Having my family gathered with me to celebrate our faith is the greatest blessing
        of all.

H-This stands for holy as I see the family. Seeing baby Jesus surrounded by his

      family and ensconced in a stable reminds me of his humble beginnings and
      how He is the savior of us all.

R-represents the reason we celebrate. It’s a perfect time to reflect on the past

       year and anticipate the future.

I-symbolizes intention. To plan intentionally how to help others and give of

       ourselves is what the Christ child inspires me to do.

S-reminds me to search for ways to ease suffering in the world. I cannot affect

     the entire globe, but can assist in the little part where I dwell.

T-requires time on my part. Planning is needed and the time to act on my

     intentions is vital. I firmly believe you make time to do what you really want
     to do. The season is not the time to be too busy to pay it forward.

M-means to meditate on the word of God. I love to read the four Gospel accounts

        of the birth of Christ and reflect on how they are different and alike. I find
        something new each time I read them.

A-is apply. I want to try and apply the reason for the season for the next years.

         Like a resolution, I sometimes get off course, but can see how much better
        my life is when I apply Christ’s love every day.

S-is sharing the story of Christmas with all I meet. Whether it is in the classroom,

      with friends or with my grandchildren as we are talking. There is no better
       way to bond than by “sharing the story.”

The Christmas Story

 

 

The Christmas Story

 

 

“In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be enrolled…3 And all went to be enrolled, each to his own city. 4 And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, 5 to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. 6  And while they were there, the time came for her to be delivered. 7  And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
8  And in that region there were shepherds out in the fields, keeping watch over their  flocks by night. 9  And an angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filed with fear. 10  And the angel said to them, ‘Be not afraid, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will come to all people; 11  for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12  And this will be a sign for you: you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger,” 13  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
14  ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased.’”

                                                  (Revised Standard Version

                                                            Luke 2:1, 3-14)

I Love Christmas

 

I Love Christmas

                by Judy

 

When I was a child my parents took me to the variety store each December to look at the dolls. “Pick out the one you like best,” they said. On Christmas morning, I was always surprised that Santa knew which doll I liked for it was under our tree. Some years Santa brought several dresses for my new doll, and I wondered how he knew to sew them from the same material as several of my dresses.

On Christmas Eve we went to my grandma’s house for dinner and a gift exchange. The next morning we opened the presents Santa brought and went to my other grandma’s for still more food and presents. I enjoyed Christmas, but I did not realize the hours of preparation needed for the good meals nor the time spent shopping for and wrapping the presents.

When I was older and no longer living with my parents, Christmas was still easy for me. I spent one Saturday afternoon each December buying presents for my family and wrapped the gifts while listening to Christmas carols and drinking hot chocolate. I still spent Christmas Eve and day with my family. I had not been home for the busy preparations for Christmas.

There came a year, though, when I was married and had a baby. That Christmas was not so easy. I thought my new daughter needed a red velvet Christmas dress, hand-sewn by me. Of course, I wanted the perfect doll, the right tea set, and special books for her, too. But, when could I shop? There were diapers to change, cereal to wash out of my hair, and laundry to do.

Before long, I had four children. If I once thought it difficult to shop for a small baby girl and keep up with the housework, I soon realized it was almost impossible to shop for trains, watches, sweaters, jeans, dolls, books, etc. for four children—and keep up with the housework and the work at the office. December also brought school and church Christmas programs. There were cookies to bake, the house to decorate, and Christmas dinner to prepare for the grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Yes, I loved Christmas as a child and as a tired, busy, young mother. I’m a grandmother now, and I still enjoy Christmas. I hope you enjoy Christmas, too.

Recovering Snoop

Recovering Snoop

                                        by Collette

Santa Clause arrived with presents on Christmas Eve when I was little, and always when my dad took us to town to get the evening paper. It took several years for me to make the connection that Mother never went with us. My sister and I fretted each year that Santa would not come because we didn’t have a chimney and were forced to hang our stockings on the knobs of the old floor radio my parents had, but he always came.

My older son carried on the tradition of having Santa arrive, but he sent his wife and children to church. He arrived later in his truck. One of my brilliant grand-daughters figured out the plan at an early age. It required Grandpa to help carry out the ruse my son developed. The family all left together for the church service. On the way to town my grand-daughter quizzed her dad in a loud whisper about how Santa was going to bring the presents this year. The questions continued through church and on the way home. Much to her surprise, Santa did arrive (thanks to Grandpa) and the Santa secret survived a few more years.

When I got older Santa Claus brought presents early Christmas morning, but there was a catch with opening the presents that was added. We couldn’t open anything until my dad got back to the house after finishing chores. It is a long time from 6:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. if one is little and excited about opening presents. When my dad finally arrived, he suggested we get dressed first, or eat breakfast or why didn’t we wait until after dinner to open our gifts? After much whining and probably some tears he relented and we could finally open our presents.

To combat the waiting I developed my own plan: I became a snoop. I have always been an insomniac, so when my parents went to bed I began my forays into the living room to check things out. I was probably in the fourth grade when I began this and started small with just the stockings. As I got older and more adept at stealth, I began looking into sacks and bags hidden in the front closet after Mother went shopping. A trip to Wichita or Tulsa always netted interesting finds.

I never asked Mother if she knew I did this because she never called me on its. My baby sister was never involved; I was the lone felon. Things went smoothly for me until I was in high school and found: the ugly green dress. Hideous was the nicest thing I could say about it. It took all of the acting ability I had to appear surprised and pleased that Christmas morning.

I reformed after that incident and was able to resist temptation until I had been married for about five years. I went down the forbidden path when I was doing a load of laundry. In my husband’s jeans was his wallet, and I needed to remove it before I washed it. (I have had experience doing that and ruining the contents in the washer, and if I was really lucky finishing everything off in the drier.)

When I removed the wallet, a slip of paper floated to the floor. I went down the crooked path and read it. Hmmmm! My husband had purchased a leather coat for someone and it was just my size. I had no trouble acting surprised and   pleased the Christmas morning. Honestly some years required more acting than others, but my sneaking around continued for several years.

Riddled with guilt and wanting to get back on the wagon, I jokingly confessed to my husband my crimes. Needless to say he didn’t think it was funny and ended my confession time by firmly stating there would be no more Christmas presents if I continued snooping. I had to think about this for a long time. I convinced myself he would probably carry through with the threat if he caught me. I walked the straight and narrow path for a long time, and really believed I had reformed until…

For years after my confession my husband removed his billfold, phone and changes from his pockets. Then he forgot and I laundered everything again. So now I am back to searching pockets. (I have an aversion to sticking my hands into men’s pockets because of the horrible things I have found in my boys’ jeans.) As a result I have slipped down the crooked path a time or two and haven’t gotten caught. I like to think I am a skilled snoop now, by my husband’s threat keeps me good-most of the time.

Life on the Prairie

For the next two months the format for Life on the Prairie has changed as construction on a new site has begun. The target date for completion is January 2016. Please continue to visit our site as we go forward with our little girls and their lives on the prairie.

Recollections

Recollections

                                         by Collette

Memories from Thanksgiving center on my five senses. Smell is the primary remembrance for me. Waking up to the roasting turkey fragrantly filling the house with its scent followed by the pungent smell of spices in the pumpkin pie or the cinnamon apple rings my mother used to make. If she had had time there was the heavy, yeasty smell of rising rolls on the cabinets as well. It was the best way to be awakened that I can remember.

Of course, taste was my favorite sense. Mother had the rule that food had to look pretty and taste good, and I learned to judge food with her rule. Off hand, I can think of no food I had at Thanksgiving I disliked-maybe a vegetable or two. When my mother’s side came for the meal, they brought food, too. The buffet was huge, tasty, colorful, and I always overate. Dessert was all of us kids’ favorite part.

The best sound was the electric knife my dad used to slice the turkey. It was my cue to go watch him in the hopes of getting a bite of crispy skin or a piece of meat that was too small to be missed. My dad, sister and I really began our meal with a bite here and there until we were banished from the room so we wouldn’t spoil our dinner. (Not much chance of that ever happening.) Usually we went to the dining room and found something to snack on until the rest of the family arrived.

Greeting family and helping them into the house was a great sight. The cousins made plans early about what we would do after the dinner. There was not room for walking in the kitchen now as my aunts and uncles entered with arms full of goodies. I understand how my mother got nervous when so many people crowded in wanting to help. I have a problem with that today.

My sense of touch grew stronger as the day continued. Of course I appreciated all of the food and getting family together, but I also remember the small things that touched me. My grandpa who refused to wear a hearing aid, sat on the couch and missed a good part of the conversations. My dad and uncles discussed the world’s situation and politics with such passion that it made me conscious of history and later would move me to become a teacher. I was touched by the caring of my aunts for my grandparents, each other and their own children. The memories of loud voices, funny stories and laughter still touch me today.

I remember with my senses, and time has faded any negatives (if there ever were any) about Thanksgiving. I have tried to create the same atmosphere for my family. I am thankful for my sensory memory because it allows me to recount the many blessings we shared, and the people made it made it so special.

 

 

 

 

Thanksgiving at Grandma's House

Thanksgiving at Grandma’s House

                                               by Judy

The young girls, Callie Mae and Alexis, in our stories loved their grandmothers. I loved my grandmothers, too, and have wonderful memories of them. They were especially important to me on Thanksgiving because they were both very good cooks.

My grandmothers were farm women, and their meals usually were prepared without the benefit of store-bought food. An old hen from the chicken house took the place of a turkey for Grandma’s Thanksgiving dinner. It was baked and served with mashed potatoes and gravy. Somehow, Grandma managed to serve homemade chicken and noodles, too. Perhaps there were two chickens involved. I don’t know. I do know two servings of mashed potatoes were required—one with gravy and one with noodles.

Side dishes included stewed tomatoes, homemade applesauce, homegrown green beans and freshly baked rolls served with churned butter, apple butter, or wild plum jelly. Dessert was pumpkin pie made from a pumpkin from Grandpa’s patch and apple pie made from apples out of Grandpa’s orchard.

Thanksgiving morning was filled with smells of Grandma’s cooking and the wood burning stove which heated my grandparents’ home. I could hardly wait until Grandma removed her apron for that meant it was time to take our places at the table. After Grandpa prayed, we ate. My brothers, younger cousins, and I listened to the adults discuss their week’s activities, community events, and even state and world happenings. There was no mention of football.

It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized how little “material things” my grandparents had. Yet they were thankful for food canned to last through the winter and enough wood cut to keep them warm. They felt blessed to have each other and their two daughters. I’m grateful for the memories I have of Thanksgivings with them when I felt loved and thankful.

I hope someday my grandchildren will look back and remember Thanksgiving dinners with me. They may remember the turkey and dressing, green bean casserole, and pies. Probably they will remember football games on television and talk of bargains for the next day’s shopping. I hope, too, they will remember feelings of love and thankfulness.

 

Life on the Prairie

 

 

For the next two months the format for Life on the Prairie has changed as construction on a new site has begun. The target date for completion is January 2016. Please continue to visit our site as we go forward with our little girls and their lives on the prairie.

Up the Family Tree

 

Anyone Want a Hotdog?

                           by Judy

 

It’s November, and this year a new granddaughter joins our family at the Thanksgiving dinner table. I am thankful for her. I’m also probably overly optimistic she will join us at the table. She is still quite young, and when her little tummy is hungry, she eats whether it is meal time for the rest of the family or not.

My family’s Thanksgiving dinners have pretty much gone as planned the past few years, but I have learned a couple of things during the many Thanksgiving mornings I have spent in the kitchen. For example, I now know there are two very necessary steps to preparing pumpkin pie. The cook should both thaw and bake a frozen pie before serving. Most guests do not appreciate waiting a couple of hours for dessert.

Another fact I know is that hot dogs are a fine substitute for turkey if some guests are on a tight travel schedule between the Grandmas’ houses. I do recommend setting at least two alarms if the turkey needs to be in the oven before the cook’s normal wake-up time.

Our founding fathers lived a life of hardship when compared to mine, yet they gave thanks for the goodness in their lives. I am thankful for my family, friends, and many other blessings, and for the sacrifices and persistence of our forefathers. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

 

 

The Story Teller's Corner

Opening Day

                                                    by Collette

Growing up, my boys remember November as the month for hunting season. There was always a rush to get the soybeans harvested so “the men” could head north for pheasants. (Getting the beans was a priority so they did miss a few trips when the work was delayed because of the weather.) Their memories included walking until they dropped, tables ladened with food for the hunters, and good football games in the afternoon.

I, too, have hunting memories with some happening even before my husband and I married. All of his brothers and he learned to shoot with a little 410 their grandpa had used. It became mine until my boys were old enough to learn to shoot it. The first time I got to hunt with it was fraught with opportunities for me to go awry, but I get ahead of myself.

Initially, I had to learn to fire the gun. Many Sunday afternoons were spent shooting at clay pigeons in preparation for the hunt. (Actually it was a pretty cheap date for struggling college students.) I thought I was beginning to get pretty good at hitting the targets. I realize now it was a little like taking skiing lessons, and then getting turned loose on the slopes. The only way down was on an intermediate slope. (That was another time and another story.)

I discovered there was a big difference between leading a clay pigeon and a pheasant. Because the bird is so much bigger than the little disk, one would think it would be easier to hit. Nope, that’s not how it works. Knowing how close the bird is to you, how fast it is flying, which direction it is headed, the direction the wind is blowing, where all the hunters are standing, plus recovering from the shock of having the bird scare you when it suddenly jumps up- all must come into play in the instant before one shoots. I missed one important step in the process that could have been very bad. I nearly shot my soon to be father-in-law.

This was a worse scare than the bird gave me, so I decided to distance myself from him a little more. We were in a recently cut milo field and the walking was very rough. As I moved farther away from the hunters, I watched the ground and stalks so I didn’t trip. Suddenly I noticed something hitting the milo near me. I continued on, not paying attention, until I  realized it was shot falling all around me. I had walked a long way from the hunters, and my fiancée was shooting over my head so I didn’t get lost.

I must qualify all of this with the disclaimer that these men and my boys were excellent shots and extremely careful when they hunted. I was the unsafe person in this scenario. Since it was a lot of work walking the fields, I spent most of my time watching. Eventually over the years I stayed at the house with my husband’s aunts and cousins. I found other ways to fit into this side of the family because I brought fried chicken that first year and for many years afterwards. It was easy to have fun with this extended family and friends.

I still like to shoot, but understand my expertise is in the kitchen and not on the hunt. Although I am not sure anyone would have walked with me in the fields if they had known I almost shot my husband’s dad.

Life on the Prairie

ALEXIS

 

 I don’t know how or where to start,

To stop the hurt in our nation’s heart.

 

I’m just a girl and my effort’s small

I want to make the world safe for all.

 

What can I do to stop this War?

To help bring our boys home from afar.

 

My heart, it does so hurt and ache,

For sacrifices made for my sake.

 

Brothers, sons, fathers, husbands, all away,

For their safety, each day I will pray.

 

 

This blog changes on the first and third weeks of each month.

 

Contact us at

www.onceupontheprairie.com

 

Please check out Judy Carroll’s new blog Family, Laughter and Laundry at

www.judithacarroll.wordpress.com

 

 

Prairie Girls

Alexis

This is Alexis, and I am happy today. The war is over! Germany surrendered in June, and now the Japanese have surrendered. America and its allies won. Mom says her cousin will surely be released soon, and we will have a big family gathering when he comes home. I am saddened when I think of the soldiers who died in the war. While my family will celebrate Mom’s cousin’s homecoming, my heart will ache for those families whose boys died. I hope there is never another war.

 

General Eisenhower

                                            by Collette

General Eisenhower was not my dad’s favorite general during WWII. He favored General Omar Bradley and was apprehensive of General George Patton. He often referred to Ike with disdain as a “desk general.” I didn’t really know what that meant except that maybe he was behind the lines and not actually in the fighting. I never asked my dad why he felt that way.

Part of the grant I participated in for my masters allowed me to do research at Eisenhower’s museum and library in Abilene. I was lucky to have one of the oldest members of the museum as my archivist. My research paper one summer was about Eisenhower’s role in WWII. The archivist brought me the letter from FDR naming Ike the Commander of the American forces in Europe. It was sent to him by George Marshall who was Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army. I was awe stricken to hold that letter.

The archivist sent me to the Dickerson County Library where I researched the early life of General Eisenhower. I looked at his report cards and was stunned by comments about how great his math skills were. He was truly gifted mathematically. It was with further research, I discovered why he had been chosen to lead the armies in Europe.

It was precisely because of those math skills that he was perfect to develop the invasion plan that would be called Operation Overlord. Only someone with keen skills could oversee thousands of men, millions of pieces of equipment, and hundreds of ships and planes to be brought in secretly to the coast of France. He even participated in estimating where the most horrific losses would occur, and he was more correct than wrong in determining how many men would be lost.

Historians now know that much of the D-Day planning was Ike’s doing. The “desk general” was an expert with numbers, placating generals with difficult personalities, and assuming the huge responsibility of leading the allies to victory during WWII. I do not share my father’s opinion about Ike.

World War II on the Home Front

WW 11 on the Home Front

                                                    by Collette

After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Americans were behind President Roosevelt’s push to enter the War in Europe and especially the War in the Pacific. After the loss of so many ships and planes following the attack, everyone was ready to roll up his sleeves and help America and her allies win the war. Men rushed to join the war, leaving women to fight the fight on the home front.

Agricultural production increased immediately, and most people fed their families by implementing “victory gardens” so more food could be shipped overseas. Rationing of such products as gasoline, oil, sugar, meat, butter, shoes, and rubber was strictly enforced. No one could purchase the rationed items without stamps. Drives were conducted by the Boy Scouts, schools, and other groups to collect everything from scrap iron to even bacon grease used in explosives.

Everyone did his part to step-up war production, but women played a huge role in producing planes, ships, jeeps, tanks, guns, ammunition, and the other necessities of war. “Rosie the Riveter” left her kids with her mother and went to work in unprecedented numbers. Major CEOs of companies received $1.00 a year income in order to pour more money into their production lines. No one could have foreseen how quickly and efficiently America geared up for war. Everyone on the home front helped win the war overseas and effectively ended the Great Depression, as well.

The following sites provide more information.
http://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/us-home-front-during-world-war-ii
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Home_front_during_World_War_II
http://www.ushistory.org/us/51.asp
http://www.archives.gov/boston/exhibits/homefront

 

 

Miscellaneous Recipes from the 1940's

Miscellaneous Recipes from the 1940’s

                                                         by Collette

Here are a few other recipes from the war years you might want to try out on your own family.

Potato Pancakes

2 large eggs                                                 5 or 6 medium potatoes
1 teaspoon salt                                            2 tablespoons flour
1/8 teaspoon black pepper                          3 tablespoons oil
1/3 cup minced onion

Peel and grate the potatoes. Tightly squeeze the potatoes to release any excess moisture. In a large bowl, lightly beat eggs with the salt and pepper. Mix onions and potatoes with flour and oil. Add the egg mixture and mix thoroughly. Brush oil on large cast iron skillet; heat until sizzling hot. Reduce heat and drop 1/3 cup of the mixture onto the skillet and spread about ¼ inch thick. Fry the pancake 2 to 3 minutes and turn. Fry on the second side 4 to 6 minutes or until golden brown. Serve with a spoonful of sour cream. Serves: 4-6

Carmel Fudge

3 cups sugar                                                ½ teaspoon vanilla
1 cup cream or whole milk                         ½ to 1 pound pecans
¼ cup butter or oleo                                   (or an amount to suit you)
1/8 teaspoon baking soda

Put 1 cup sugar into small sauce pan and the remaining sugar with cream in a large kettle. Put both on at the same time on low heat. Stir the sugar constantly until it is a light brown syrup. Stir the other mixture occasionally, (do not let boil until sugar is completely dissolved). When syrup is right, add to cream and sugar very slowly. Stir vigorously to keep from curdling. Continue cooking without stirring until mixture forms a firm ball in cold water or 245 degrees on thermometer. Take off stove, mix in soda, and add butter allowing it to melt into the candy. Let cool 20-30 minutes. Add vanilla and beat until mixture is thick, heavy,   shining like satin. Add as many pecans as mixture will hold. Pour into a buttered pan, mark off squares, and place a pecan ½ on each square. Cut when cold.

Red Apples

6 firm apples (York, or Black Twig)          1 cup water
1 cup sugar                                                 1 package red hots

Peel and core apples (leave whole). Bring the sugar, water and red hots to a boil, put in apples (use a heavy pan), cover, and boil for 5 minutes. Turn apples and place over low heat; cover and cook until done. Serves: 6

"I Like Ike; I Still Like Ike"

“I Like Ike; I Still Like Ike”

                                                      by Collette

I remember when Dwight David Eisenhower was President of the United States. As a little kid, I thought it was neat to have a President who grew up in Kansas. I was aware when I started teaching that his ranking as an effective President was about mid-range to lower one-third when compared with other Presidents. He was often criticized for his hobby of golf, his bumbling manner when he spoke ending with a scratching of his head, and that he had a couple of heart attacks.

After reading five books including a couple of books written by Ike himself, I have changed my opinion of him as a President and so have other historians. He now ranks close to the top ten Presidents. Ike ran the country and his cabinet in much the way he guided the armies of WWII. I knew from his grades in school and achievements during the war that he was a smart man. Eisenhower would lapse into his bumbling manner when he didn’t want to answer the press who were questioning him at the time. After all you didn’t share all of the information you had in the army, and he saw no need to do that with the press.

The list of accomplishments of his administrations is long and easily researched if one is interested. Eisenhower ran his presidential campaign with the slogan “I Like Ike.” Americans did like the former general. They liked him so much the slogan of his second campaign was “I Still Like Ike.” I have to admit “I Like Ike,” too, and am pleased he has come up in the rankings as a top ten President.

The Family Reunion

 The Family Reunion

                                                        By Judy

“Mom, do I have to go? Sally’s mom said she would take us to the movie. Why do I have to go to a family reunion?  I’m sure Grandma’s cousin from California won’t know if I’m there or not,” Annie whined.

“Why do I have to go if Annie doesn’t?” Danny asked. “It’s not fair. Jeff and I planned to study together for our big test in—uh—in--in history. Yes, for our big test in history next Monday. Please don’t make me go to the reunion.”

“I really need to work Saturday afternoon. Next week is going to be a busy one at the office. I thought I could get a head start on the week if I worked instead of going to the reunion,” my husband said calmly and logically. (Interpret that to mean there was no room for discussion.)

I wasn’t excited about going to the reunion picnic myself. It was August—hot, hot August, but there are some things a child does for her parents. So yes, I made plans to drive the forty miles to attend the reunion. In a moment of total lack of consideration for the fair treatment of all my children, I excused Annie and Danny from the reunion. Susie and David were at a loss for any kind of excuse for not attending, so I declared they were going.

“I’ll go if Molly can go with me. If her mom says she can go, can she, please, Mom?” Susie asked. I didn’t see any reason her friend couldn’t go.

“If I go, can Ben go with me?” David asked.

Off to the reunion I traveled, four kids in tow. Grandma introduced us to her family members. She attempted to explain to a couple of her cousins that only two of the kids were mine. She explained the other two were guests. There were a lot of aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins at the reunion, though. Grandma finally gave up and just introduced me as her daughter and the four kids with me as her grandchildren.

I received many compliments for my well-behaved, nice-looking children. Most people commented on the family resemblance of the four. “Oh, yes, I can sure tell those are your kids.” I just smiled and said thank you.  

 

Life on the Prairie

 

ALEXIS

 

 I don’t know how or where to start,

To stop the hurt in our nation’s heart.

 

I’m just a girl and my effort’s small

I want to make the world safe for all.

 

What can I do to stop this War?

To help bring our boys home from afar.

 

My heart, it does so hurt and ache,

For sacrifices made for my sake.

 

Brothers, sons, fathers, husbands, all away,

For their safety, each day I will pray.

 

 

This blog changes on the first and third weeks of each month.

 

Contact us at

www.onceupontheprairie.com

 

Please check out Judy Carroll’s new blog Family, Laughter and Laundry at

www.judithacarroll.wordpress.com

 

 

Prairie Girls

Alexis

 

It’s Alexis again. I heard Daddy and Momma talking about her cousin. His airplane was shot down. He parachuted out of the plane, but was captured by Japanese soldiers.

Daddy says there is an aircraft factory in Wichita that builds an airplane called the Superfortress. Our neighbors have a boy who is a flight engineer on a Superfortress. Daddy says that plane can fly farther than any other plane. He said those planes will help America win the war. I sure hope so.

 

Cat with Nine Lives

                                                 by Collette

I had the pleasure of having one of my dad’s friends come to speak to my advanced placement American History classes on his WWII experiences. His name was John, and he took part in Operation Overlord at Normandy Beach. John got separated from his unit on the beach and wasn’t able to rejoin the group until the end of the war.

John spent his time in the outdoors most of his life as a young boy. He loved camping, fishing, and cooking whatever he caught. Little did he know those skills would come in handy during the war. John was captured, escaped and was captured again by the Germans. The first time during his capture, the soldiers had shot a deer, but didn’t know how to dress or cook it. John used his skills and made himself useful to the enemy. The Germans were not very happy with him when he escaped and was recaptured, but one of the guards befriended him and protected him from execution.

My dad’s friend told story after story about the close calls he had with the Germans. One incident involved the French Underground. To help him avoid the enemy, they had him pretend to be a deaf mute to cover up the fact John couldn’t speak French. During his time working with the underground, he helped save a village from destruction. After the war John received medals and many honors from the French government for saving the little town. Just before he died a few years ago, members of the French government met him in St. Louis to give him yet another award.

John had wanted me to help him write a book for his grandchildren about his exploits in the army. We were going to do that after I retired. Unfortunately, he died before we could write it. I wasn’t the only one who recognized how exciting his war experiences were. On the troop ship back to the States after the war, the wartime writer Ernie Pyle looked him up. He wanted to write a book about John.

They exchanged telephone numbers and addresses, and they agreed to meet after Pyle got back from the Pacific where he was being sent to cover the war. The wartime correspondent was killed shortly after that in the War in the Pacific. We both were too late to record John’s story.