(Lincoln County, West Virginia: September 1932)
The one-year mark of daddy’s passing had come and gone by much too fast. September rolled in as usual but nothing about life felt familiar anymore. I wasn’t at all sure how we as a family survived such a loss. It was the prime time for harvesting crops and daddy’s favorite time of the year. His death created such an empty space within our family; the memories of him were now bittersweet. Everything had changed. Whenever I needed a reminder to keep going forward, all I had to do was remember my mama’s words:
“I want to tell y’all somethin’, the Lord will take care of us. Things will be harder around here, but we have to trust Him.” Those challenging words proved to be a harder task than we thought. “I need you all to help out more with no belly achin’. We will have to make money however we can.” A mother’s courage was a priceless treasure.
As I finished hanging the last of the clothes outside one afternoon, Georgia and I heard a familiar cry. We ran into the house, our feet almost never touching the ground. As we got closer, we saw what was happening. Jack started to cry as Will snatched his lone toy model car and let out a triumphant laugh. Jack ran over to us and clung to Georgia.
“Will took my toy!” he cried in despair.
“It was mine first!” Will argued back.
“Knock it off, you two. We’ve worked hard for y’all to even have that toy,” she reminded them, stepping between them. “Give the car back to Jack please and say you’re sorry.”
Will handed the toy to Jack. We went on about our day as usual.
Industrial jobs had become common. We found a job with mama keeping house for Mr. Marshall, a recently widowed farmer. Mama was always drawn to helping people out. I helped with the sewing while Georgia and Della cooked his meals. Grace and Clara helped mama clean. Down the road from his house was a little country church that we started going to every time the doors were open.
Mr. Marshall was a gentleman in the first months that we knew him. It didn’t take long for us to see his true colors. To our surprise, one day we came on his property, and we were unable to find him. We looked all around searching for him.
“He ain’t home,” Clara said after a while, as she stared at the front door. We were there hoping to confront him. The last week’s pay wasn’t at all what he promised, and his presence began to deepen the empty space in our hearts. This was a man who at one time had showered us with kindness: giving us extra food and paying mama in cloth and thread. He even gave us extra money that mama used to buy the toy car. That man was gone. He became a person that we couldn’t trust; a man who had grown to be a stranger to us. No one had ever hurt us this way. None of it made any sense. Mama did her best to lock away the painful memory, though one night we could hear her tearful plea to her Savior:
“Lord, I don’t know what Your plan is for us, but I trust You. The past year’s been rough on us. I just don’t understand. Lord, give the strength I need to keep us goin’, and I pray that my kids would trust in You to save their precious souls. They need You. In Jesus name, I pray, Amen.”
Losing daddy was hard on mama. She spent her days overworked and overtired. Just as she so often told us He would, God always took care of our needs. We didn’t have a lot, but we had enough. The experience with Mr. Marshall left its mark. Mama kept praying for a new opportunity, and we continued to go to church. Several weeks passed by before Mr. Lemaster, a man from church, answered her prayers.
“Tom, I don’t know what to say,” Mama couldn’t believe it. We couldn’t either. A hint of caution rang through her voice. “Our last experience wasn’t what we thought it would be.” She searched his face for a response, as she continued. “My family means a lot to me, and well, we got our taste of the ‘dishonest bunch’ that my late husband always talked about.” Mama’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Thank you so much for wanting to help us. You didn’t have to.” Mr. Lemaster placed a comforting hand on mama’s shoulder.
“I say if ya can, you ought to help people out. I got boys. They need somebody other than me around here. I reckon my youngins are just about the age of yours.” said Mr. Lemaster, a reassuring smile began to form.
His sons suffered a similar loss. Their mother died during childbirth, leaving them without a mother. Pete and Everett were older, while Frank was my age: a soft-spoken teenage boy with brown hair. I had seen him around the church before.
We said goodbye to Mr. Lemaster. The return home that night was filled with hope. Mama said she knew that this blessing was an answered prayer. We sat around eating what little bit of dinner we had with hearts full of thankfulness and joy. The Lord led us this far, and we knew that He would be with us wherever we would go.
“Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest” ( Joshua 1:9 )
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