Reader Edna T Praises her mother

Throughout this month, I have been touched by the stories from readers about the strong women in their lives. Today, Edna T shares about her mother.
Here's Edna T:

"The woman that I respect the most was my Mama. She was born 1898 and lost her mom when she was four at the birth of her sister. Her dad let some of the relatives raise the sister but mom had to stay and do work that any 4 year old should never have to do. Then her dad remarried and the step-mother was not good to her, but she survived and became a very good person.

She married my dad when she was 20 and started having babies, she had 10 in all with one set of twins, I came late when mom was 45, so I am the baby of the family. My Mom always gardened, and did all the things what a woman of that time era had to do. She had no running water, no electricity etc, until later on. My Dad died with cancer when I was 8 in 1951 leaving Mama with 4 kids to finish raising. My brother next to me was 7 years older than I, then another brother and an older sister.

We all four were the youngest of the tribe. Mom washed clothes with her hands for people and ironed, she finally got a winger type washer but had to draw water from a well and you can be we lazy kids didn't do anything that we could get out of. She sewed. made cakes and did anything she could to get enough to feed us and keep me in school.

That was my choice not hers as she had only a 4th grade education. I was the only one out of the 10 that graduated HS and I did it on time, that was because I loved to read and the school library was the only place for me to get book, I read a book a night.

She became a Christian late in life after I married and boy was she a Christian, when she lived with me she would pray every night and we could hear her in her bed talking to God. Thank the Heavenly Father He got a good one in her. She never had a bad word to say about anyone even before she got saved, she was just a very loved SOUTHERN LADY, but her Dad was a full blooded German.

My mom fell the night my oldest son was graduating from HS, in 1980 and never recovered from it. She had already had to start living among us kids as she could not take care of herself. She passed away in June and was buried on Father's Day. And even after 29 years, I miss her so much and even talk to her sometimes, wishing she could see my grandbabies."

As I always say, "Every woman has a story. Shares yours."--Lyn

Another Reader Darcie's Mother-A Southern Country Woman

I'm truly inspired by the stories of Mothers that have been posted. Here is Darcie's tribute:

"My mother was a simple southern country woman who was loved by everyone in the community. We were poor and she worked very hard in the fields growing produce to sell as well as to can and feed us and anyone else that needed food. She often plowed a mule as we kids sewed the seed or as we chopped the weeds. She was known as "Big Mama" to the kids in the neighborhood, I guess cause she was 6 foot tall and a plus sized lady. The coffee pot was always hot and the table was laden with old fashion county eats including the best chicken and dumplings ever as well as scratch made "cathead biscuits, gravies,cornbread, field peas, fried okra, dressing steak and gravy. Often there were at least 20-30 folks there to be fed at meal time. It was all simple food but was plentiful because she raised it.

Our life was kind of like the Amish people except we did have electricity. We did not have television or other entertainment. We worked so hard we were glad to go to bed at nightfall. In the later years we ran a meat packing place and mama often killed the animals, dressed them put them in the cooler till ready to be cut and wrapped for the customer's freezer. She knew ever cut of meat there was even when a lady tried to get her to cut Pork chops from a side of beef..... she cut the rib chops and asked the lady, "is this what you want ?" of course that was it. She just did not know how else to explain what she wanted.

My mother was the brunt of most jokes because she never got the punch line till it was explained to her. She was happy most of the time and went around singing gospel songs. I am proud that she raised me to work hard and to know the importance of an education. She was so happy when I graduated from nursing school and became a Registered Nurse.

I try to live my life now according to the way my mother lived, even though I am disable on the good days I do my best to help others or at leave get them to smile or laugh. One of my favorite things to do is to see someone having a bad day and tell them, "SMILE MAKE EVERYONE WONDER WHAT YOUR THINKING" God Bless you and yours and may everyone have wonderful memories of their mother. Remember to enjoy your mother while you can and most often it is the little things that count the most.

Be Happy......... Smile make others wonder what your thinking!"
Darcie"
What an inspiring story, Darcie!

Virginia Smith and Her Grandmother, "Mono"

Today my friend Ginny shares special memories.

It’s hard to pick just one strong woman to write about, because I come from a family of them. We’re from the south, and southern women are known for their inner strength, well-hidden beneath a soft veneer. Remember Steel Magnolias? We stand firm. We don’t buckle in the face of adversity. And that was definitely true of my grandmother.

My grandmother was born in 1906, several months after her father’s death. She was the seventh daughter, and her mother named her after her father as a final act of remembrance – Bennie Virginia. (Yes, I was named after her.) Her mother never remarried, and with such a big family and no father around, you know they weren’t wealthy. My grandmother put herself through school, and then married. She gave birth to three boys – two of them survived. Then, when my father was nine, her husband died suddenly. The girl who grew up without a father became a widow without a father for her sons. She got a job as a teacher and worked hard to support them.

I called her Mono. The name came from an older cousin who couldn’t pronounce ‘Mother,’ as all the grown-ups were calling her. It stuck, even though I went through preadolescent agonies of embarrassment over the name when Mono was my fourth-grade math teacher. But she loved the silly name, so I couldn’t do anything about it. (I did try to call her Granny once, but she insisted, “Grannies are old ladies who sit in rocking chairs and knit. I’m not Granny – I’m Mono!”)

Some of my most cherished memories come from my times with Mono. Her house always smelled of cookies, and she prided herself on her secret fried chicken recipe (which she took to the grave with her!). She was a proper southern woman – don’t wear white or open-toed shoes after Labor Day, always wear a petticoat, male guests should only be entertained with an appropriate chaperone hovering nearby. I don’t ever remember Mono sitting me down to teach me the lessons I learned from her; instead, her life was her classroom. From her, I learned that difficulties are not reasons to stop striving; they are merely obstacles to be overcome. I learned to love fiercely and forever, as she did. I learned that the difference we make in life is not measured by a list of accomplishments, but by the number of lives we have touched.

That was evident at Mono’s funeral, when the mourners overflowed the funeral home. Many of them told us that Mono had taught three generations of their family, and had been the favorite teacher of them all. They’d smile and tell us their favorite memories of that grand old lady who’d lived to be ninety-six, then they’d file past the casket. The funeral spray on top had two ribbons – one said Mother. The other said Mono.

What does Mono have to do with my new book, Murder at Eagle Summit? Why, not a thing! The grandmother in this book is a funny old character, bur she bears very little resemblance to my Mono. On the other hand, now that I think about it, the heroine, Liz, is an awfully strong-willed woman. And in the course of the story, she learns that love—true love—is forever. So maybe Mono does show up in Murder at Eagle Summit after all. You be the judge!"

For more information about Virginia (Ginny) Smith

Stories with Humor and Heart

www.virginiasmith.org

Thanks, Ginny. Great story!