Thanks to photographer Alexandra McGoey for sharing her beautiful work.
MUSIC FROM THE MASTER MAESTRO
(A poem written while living in Louisiana)
By: Lillian Carol Russell
The crickets sing in the nearby wood,
Their happy tune makes my heart feel good.
The mourning dove sings a sad sweet song,
I hear him calling all day long.
The birds are all busy making melody,
Taking their part in God’s symphony.
From my lily pond a bullfrog sings bass,
There’s so much rhythm around the place.
The wind gently blows through the lush green leaves,
To blend with the humming of the busy bees.
Much has changed in life’s ebb and flow,
There’s a little less get-up in my go.
The sounds I hear grow sweeter each day,
As a little bit more of my life slips away.
Has my life counted I wonder at this minute,
Is the world a little better place because I am in it?
What have I done for the cause of Christ, He has done so much for me,
In fact He gave His very life back there at Calvary.
I look beyond the stars at night and feel so very small,
Even the hairs of my head are numbered by the God who created all.
I listen to Him speak through the insects, the birds, the wind in the trees,
I feel His touch in the gentle blowing breeze.
He is an awesome God, a mighty God is He,
And awesome is the very thought that He loves even me.
(Old Roads to Mississippi)
I remember as a child, when we went in an old truck and my sister and I rode in the back, it was a scary ride up through those Mississippi hills, the roads were not so good as they are now and we passed big moss hung trees that we just knew had giant snakes waiting to drop into the truck bed with us. Daddy was fond of taking short cuts through logging roads that often got us lost and threw mama into a raving caniption fit.)
The Years I Spent In Child Labor Camps
Last night I was going through some old pictures and came across one of my Uncle Bill, he was one of my favorites, hard to pick a favorite when they were all so special. I thought I'd write about my days in child labor camp today, the greatest years of my life. We kids did not know it but our family had a clever way of running legal child labor camps in the summer.
When the peas came in my sister Stella and I went to spend the week with Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha, with our cousins, Joan, Shirley, Lloyd, & Dennis. Uncle Bill was a hoot, when he left for work at 3 AM. He woke us all up, we had to be up and smiling like he was, but as soon as he left we crumbled back into our beds and slept late. That was OK with Aunt Martha because she most likely enjoyed the peace and quiet and she knew what was coming when he got home, she was a sweetheart too.
Uncle Bill's Day began early and he got home early enough to work his gardens, you might say fields, because he planted a lot. When he got in he and Aunt Martha picked many bushels of beans, not a few mind you. They brought these in and gave us each a bushel and a shelling pan and challenged us to see who could shell the most. We dumped the shells on news papers in the middle of the living room floor, where we sat circled round the TV, talking, laughing, planning our futures, and filing complaints each time Aunt Martha would come in with more beans. She would just laugh as she gathered the empty shells and tell us we'd be glad to have the beans come winter.
We were not even aware of the hard job that lay ahead of her, washing jars and with all the canning of the beans. Kids are only aware of their own needs. Our fingers were really getting tired and as kids do we were getting bored as we watched the mountain of pea hulls pile up in front of us. We just wanted this to be over, we had pent up energy, we needed to run, we needed to feel the wind in our hair, to hear the sounds of nature outside. I'm giving Joan credit for this because as I remember it I do believe it was her idea. I can almost hear her voice saying it now; “What if we take a bunch of these peas that we have not shelled and put them up under the pea hulls?” Genius, my cousin was a pure genius, why hadn't someone thought of this sooner? We hurried and scurried and buried peas. Oh did we giggle at our triumph. Aunt Martha came in delighted that we had gained speed and had finished all those peas. Our celebration was short lived, when she came back in from dumping those hulls, she had picked the peas out and brought them back. She delivered to us a speech I will never forget that did shake me out of my childish stupor a bit, it was the only time I'd seen her so upset. Back then you grew your own food and stored it away for the winter, you didn't run to the grocery store like we do now. She made us aware how hard they had worked in the fields planting, tending and picking those peas so that they would have food on the table through the winter. She threatened us if she should find one more unshelled pea. We were not so proud of our little trick anymore and worked with new found fervor.
She kept a beautiful spotless home and always had a delicious supper on the large dinning table. I remember setting round that table like it was yesterday, golden ice tea poured over crystal clear ice, meat & gravy, hot fresh biscuits, lots of vegetables, oh she was a wonderful cook. Grace was said and we all sat round the table together enjoying a family meal.Those times working and playing with my cousins, visiting my aunts and uncles, were some of the best memories of my youth. Oh how nice it would be to step back through the gossamer veil of time and spend another day in child labor camp.
It would be wonderful if children of today had the opportunities we had back then, it was not child abuse, it was love and it was education family style, the way it should be. Daddy's family knew just when to send the kids to visit. We spent cucumber season with Aunt Cloe, I'll save that for another day. Families helped each other out, now they don't even visit any more. Look at the sad state our world is in, kids don't want to be bothered with their family any more, love and loyalty are out the window. Family, the very foundation of our nation is crumbling, Satan has a very real foot hold and we are too blind to see it.
“"There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human society, are created, strengthened and maintained”" - Winston Churchill
