When I Was a Little Girl
I used to stutter. I went to a special ed class for my stuttering. I could read and write, but my mother didn't want me to read or write. She didn't want to pay for special ed classes and wanted to keep the money my father gave me for her own expenses. That's the reason I got married young – to have a better life. I didn't. My husband got killed by drugs. I got a job doing the laundry for a hotel, but God showed me I could do more. I made a better life for myself by drawing, acting, sewing, making artwork like a wooden shoe covered with flowers, and being here, telling my stories. I love this writing group. May God bless the people in the writing group and at the senior center and everyone reading my stories.
Music in my Bones
I just left the closing of the Senior Center Choir’s get together/luncheon/brunch/whatever for the summer. While we were brunching or whatever the subject of singing at the table was brought up. We all agreed that singing at the table was bad manners. I think the subject came up because while I was eating I was singing along with the smart phone that someone had placed on the table next to where I was sitting. They weren’t just any songs, they were gospel songs.
It was then mentioned about how we were coming up as children. Not only were we not allowed to sing at the table, but in some situations we were not allowed to even talk at the kitchen table. When I was a young girl, I’d better not sing at the table. Accept when my sister Doris and I were moved to be joined with our three other siblings, and it would be just the children at the table, and we were allowed to talk with one another. Of my siblings, I was the most talkative one and had to be told to shut my mouth.
I’ve always loved music, and now as an adult whenever I hear music even while I’m eating I have the tendency to sing or hum. And if I don’t know the words to a song I’m either humming, rocking, or tapping my feet. (note I said feet not foot) Music is just in my bones.
I often think of the times of my childhood days, when children had fun really playing. I remember when I, my brothers, cousins and friends used to build things. I remember when we used to build go-carts. What we would do was find, or go to a grocery store and ask for crates. Then we would find old pieces of boards. For whatever reason there were always some around. We had a lot of empty lots in the hood. A lot came from abandoned buildings. In my time when I was growing up skates were almost a must as a youngster. If you didn’t have any or too much to play with, the first thing to have for fun was a pair of skates. We would take one of the skates, or both If needed, and take the skate apart. We also needed nails. We would take the crate and nail it on a tall piece of board, then nail another piece of board on the bottom of the crate. We would nail the skate that was taken apart in two pieces; one up front then one in back of the bottom board. And then we had our go-cart. It was so much fun. When I look back I can see how smart and creative I was.