My Days in Child Labor Camp

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

Strange Blessings

AFTER LIFE'S BRIEF FLING

By: Lillian Carol Russell

Not a sign of a cloud in the sky today,
The breeze is cool that blows my way.

The trees look so sad I could almost cry,
As they reach their bare arms to the bright blue sky.

Around my feet the leaves lie dead,
No lovely colors of green, gold or red.

Soon the air will lose it's chill,
Once more to spring our hearts will thrill.

The flowers will bloom, the grass will grow,
Once more earth will begin the greatest show.

Winter like death is a cold lonely thing,
It would be unbearable without the promise of spring.

My life would be the same if I didn't know,
That my Savior has prepared a place for me to go.

More beautiful is heaven than the rarest bloom is spring,
And heaven shall be mine after life's brief fling.

Because Jesus, shed His Blood and bore my pain,
After the winter of my life, heaven shall be my gain.

No death, no sickness, no tears will I shed there,
To the beauty of heaven, not even spring can compare.

ME AND LONESOME GEORGE

When we lived in Louisiana I had some free roaming chickens, just a few for fun and fresh eggs. Try as I may I could not get them to lay in the individual nest I'd made for them. They laid all over the place until one little hen decided to choose a nest to set her eggs in. Then all the other hens thought it was the best place to lay. Every time mama hen got off her nest, another hen contributed an egg to her family. It got just ridiculous, I was leaving for work early and getting home late so I had no way of controlling this adoption agency the chickens had started. I checked the nest every afternoon and when there were about three dozen eggs, far more than her body could cover, I knew we had a disaster on our hands. She sat, and sat, and sat and I felt so sorry for the disappointment ahead, then one day I drove my mail truck home to find her running around with one baby chick following her. I thought, that can't be all that hatched, but when I went to the nest it was filled with cold eggs. I began to pick them up one by one and listen for signs of life, finally one little egg rewarded me with the faintest tapping. I rushed it inside, wrapped it in a warm cloth and placed it in a foam cup to keep it warm while I checked the other eggs but all the others were dead.

I came in and devoted my attention to the weak little baby unable to break through the shell. I gently helped it out, a little wet chick that looked more dead than alive. I  gently wrapped it up with a damp warm wash cloth and placed it in a container, then placed that container inside a larger container filled with warm water and kept changing it all during the night to keep it warm. I had rigged an incubator of sorts for this little guy, I don't think it was quite ready to face the world. I called my mother-in-law, bless her heart she was such a dear lady. I asked her if she would baby sit my little chick and keep it warm while I worked the next day. She kind of laughed and said sure, I think I can handle that. She did and I picked it up after work and by bedtime it had dried out and had yellow fur and was able to stand up. Well I got out the old bird cage, placed him in there and named him Lonesome George. I hung a light bulb to keep it warm. A little yellow ball of fluff that tweeted the sweetest little melody every time I talked to it. I crocheted a mama hen, suspended it from the top of the cage and he cuddled up under it and was just as happy as could be. I kept George in that cage until he would not fit out the door and I had to take the bottom off to clean the cage every night. I loved that little chicken and it loved me. Our kids were grown by now.

My husband said Carol, you know normal people do not keep chickens in the house in bird cages. Well I had not often been accused of being normal anyway, but it was getting to be a hassle to clean the cage and by now it had become evident that George's name should be changed to Georgette. So began the season of teaching Georgette that she was a chicken. When I came home from work, she sang and chirped wildly while I made my coffee. Then we went out in the yard where she was set free. I sat in the swing under the shade trees sipping my coffee and she played around my feet chattering her chicken chatter. I'm sure she thought I was her mama. She would have nothing at all to do with the other chickens. Just before sunset when they went to roost, I took her and put her up in the big plum tree by the front of the house to roost. She would jump down and follow me to the door, finally I got her to stay for a while, but then I'd hear her tapping at the front door with her beak, (Mama let me in the house.) Eventually she decided she liked the roominess of the plum tree better than that little bird cage. I waited but there was no tap on the door my, little Georgette was all grown up now.

When I left for work each morning Georgette chirped me a fond good bye. When I came home at the end of the day she came at a flying run down the lane and jumped up in the truck window, hanging onto the door, she rode back to the house with me chirping and cackling wildly as if trying to tell me all that had happened to her that day. She waited outside while I made my coffee then sat on the swing with me while I enjoyed her company, she continued to cackle and chatter, as I drank my coffee. I talked to her as if she understood and told her how my day had been. That little chicken was the best friend I had there for a while. My husband was working long hours in New Orleans and got home late. The Lord knew I needed company, so He sent a chicken to cheer me up and oh what a chicken she was. Sometimes our blessings can come wrapped in strange packages.

Changes in Life's Ebb & Flow (Re-Post of yesterday, February 21, 2011, )

For those who were not able to read  due to the color malfunction I deleted yesterday's post and did it over hopefully it will work this time. Thank you all for letting me know, I'm still reading and trying to learn the ropes.

BUMPS

By; Lillian Carol Russell

Life isn't always easy there are changes along the way,

Some of the good times you leave behind to be lost with yesterday.

The clock of life keeps ticking, changing all the while,

Some days you greet with tears, others you greet with a smile.

If I place my heart in a box to protect it from hurt and harm, 

It will grow cold and die for a heart must be kept warm,

The bumps in life are painful but I guess it should be know,

Although they are rough we use them to climb they teach us we must hold on.

These are pictures of the Tangipahoa River near where I grew up in Roseland Louisiana, a few miles from my home. Great for fishing swimming, canoeing tubing, camping, a real sportsman's paradise. Spring rains often made the river reach the top of the bridge and sometimes went over the bridge . When we were kids we hoped the bridges would wash out so we would not have school. What foolish children we were.

Growing up in Louisiana near the Tangipahoa River, I watched the spring floods change it's course of flow many times. It would rain for days, the waters would rise up out of its banks and the raging torrential flow would cut a new channel. When every thing settled down we marveled at the change, but soon adapted to it. so it is in life.

My old home place, daddy & all his siblings except Uncle R. C. who had died young of a heart attack. Left to right, Nannie, Tincie, Bessie, (my daddy; D.C.), Susie, Virgie, (L.W. "Bill"), Johnnie, Addie Bell, Mary Dee, James Kennon. The only one still on this side of glory is aunt Bell. (Children of Iley Winston & Dinky Dee Strickland McDaniel)

As children we have no clue as to the many changes that we will go through. We think our parents will always be there to protect us, but by and by they grow old. Shocker; we grow old too; didn't see that coming when I was a kid. I thought old people were another race, then it started to dawn on me the road I was headed down. After a certain age though you don't mind and somewhere along the way I stopped counting new wrinkles, well it reaches a point where you just can't count that high. My grandpa Iley McDaniel always said “A little powder & a little paint will make a gal look like something what she ain't.” Well I go light on that now days because there is no sense drawing a lot of attention to a dead Christmas tree.

Life is grand, my husband and I are retired and loving it but tired should be the main emphasis in the word retired because we both find that the things we wanted to do when our kids were grown and we were on our own we either hurt too bad are we are too tired to do. It is all part of that new channel the river of life has cut out for us during one of those floods of change. There have been so many, some good, bringing joy beyond our wildest dreams. Some filled with heartache and bitter tears and had we not had each other to lean on and God to see us through, I don't know how we would have made it. Always looking back through the hardest and most bitter trials I see that on the other side of the rain there always was a rainbow. My Savior has never let me down and my faith in Him has grown so deep that I have found the need to praise Him even when I weep.

Living on Rainbows

Reaching for the Nail Scared Hand

By: Lillian Carol Russell

Life goes on day after day,

Bringing changes our way.

Seasons of laughter, seasons of tears,

Yesterday is lost in the ebb and flow of tears.

Memories, so many memories I recall,

Looking back I thank God for them all.

Yes even the ones that still bring a tear,

For the chastening has always drawn me near.

The tears draw me nearer my God to thee,

Nearer to the cross of Calvary.

Reaching for the blood stained, nail scared hand,

Reaching for the strength from Thee to stand.

Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth, so in my time of pain,

I ask Him for the sunshine, but fret not when I receive more rain.

I know that my God is with me and every burden shares,

I never take a step alone, I know my Savior cares.

In pain He bore the cross alone,

Took my sin upon Him as if it were His own.

Whatever I may suffer as I journey through this life you see,

It is nothing compared to what He did for me.

The price He paid, the blood He shed, the nails that pierced His hands and feet,

The sacrifice He made was total and complete.

How could He love so much a sinner yet to be,

How could He love at all a sinner such as me.

LIVING ON RAINBOWS

This morning it was time to refill my seven day pill packs holders and I thought, well here I am living on all these  colors of the rainbow. My pills are pink, blue, yellow, so many lovely colors, so many pills. Not fun to face every morning.  Seems seven days go by so fast now. My body needs help to keep going because of being, Diabetic, with Congestive Heart Failure, Epilepsy, arthritis, Fibromyalgia, back problems and there are other ailments but you get the picture. Life is one big pill, except for pain pills which I can not take.

The thing is, that we rush through our lives until we are all burned out. I guess it is our human nature. We never stop long enough to enjoy the dessert that God has placed before us. We charge forth wanting the main course. Our youth seems wasted when we get to these golden years, (they should be called our rusty years). One of my husband's favorite teachers, Bob Russell used to tell them to get busy, they were not living in the metallic age yet, that being; " Silver in your hair, gold in your teeth, and lead in your butt." Well, except for the gold in our teeth, here we are full blown metallic age.

We've hurried to raise our children, often missing out on precious joys we should have taken time to relish. Our children are only ours for such a little time, though it seems forever when we are trying to make a living, to put food on the table, pay the bills and all that goes with the rat race of life. They were dessert, we should have taken each day with them and wrapped our hearts around each precious memory. The thing is that we never realized that it would be so temporary.

Time that dragged by so slowly when we were young has now become a fleeting thing. I've watched my grandchildren grow up. They were the topping on that dessert of life. They work so hard in school and their grades are good and they are wonderful children, but they really don't need grandpa and granny so much any more, the rat race is beginning for them. One in collage, one soon to be, the baby headed to high school.

My children are on the thresh-hold of feeling the empty nest, they don't have a clue how much it will hurt, none of us ever do. One day you are going in circles trying to catch up, then before you know it, the house is quiet all day. No toys on the floor, beds stay made, laundry for two, meals for two and you then realize how quickly it went by. Now you would love to have a little hand to hold or hear a little voice wake you from your sleep to say mommy I had a bad dream and oh how you would treasure being able to rock them back to sleep.

Now we have time to watch the beautiful sunrises and sunsets. We admire the flowers and enjoy the birds. We gaze with wonder at the new fallen snow and we treasure the sound of rain. We finally have time to enjoy dessert but we went for the main course, why didn't we take more time to share the beautiful gifts from God with our children? It is forever too late now, no turning back the hand of time. If you still have children in your home please be aware that life is but a vapor as it says in the Bible. Take a bit of time out of each day to let each child and loved one know just how special they are to you. Speak softly, it is the harsh words they will remember. “As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.”

I'm so thankful that my daddy, rest his sweet soul, was a memory maker. He loved life, taught us to see the world around us, and love and laugh and be happy. With each generation the world moves at a faster pace and it gets harder to share special moments. It will come as a shock one day to the younger generation though they can't envision it now, but they too will get old. Take the time to enjoy life's dessert before you find your bones are popping and creaking, your eyesight is going and your idea of a great outing is sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch or watching TV together in an adjustable bed.

"When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure." .Peter Marshall

TIME IN A BOTTLE

Remember the old song "if I could put time in a bottle, I'd spend every minute with You?"
It's the sort of thing, if given the chance, most of us would do.

Re-living childhood days that were such fun,
Running and laughing and playing in the sun.

Holding new born babies, rocking them to sleep,
All those precious moments in time that just don't keep.

God in His wisdom did not this option give,
He knew we would never go forward to live.

We would refuse the pain that make us stronger,
choosing to remain in joy a little longer.

Ever retreating to past happier times and places,
Choosing not to run in life's trying races.

It's the bumps in life we should use to climb,
Reaching and growing to heights sublime.

As we leave behind the happy moments from today,
Others will come along somewhere along the way.

God gives us our memories and the promise of eternal joy for all,
If on the name of His son we will call.

The heartaches and pain we encounter along the way,
Make us better, stronger people as we face each new day.

By: Lillian Carol Russell