This is a true story and is entered at “Tell Me a True Story.”
If you can picture a family
that they themselves wouldn't call poor (they had some pride) but the word
"poorly" might fit the bill.
Then you would be envisioning
the folks I am mentioning; five girls in the mix, three in their teens, and two
under ten. These girls were far out in the country with no money except what
very little they could talk their father out of and he didn't have much to
start with.
I suppose if they had been
more industrious they could have come up with a way of making some money like sewing
quilts or raising chickens to sell eggs but they didn't.
About the only instance they
could earn any money was when cotton picking time came. This was something
anyone could do even little kids like me who was around five years old.
As it always happens when it
is time to pick cotton it is also the hottest time of the year, and if the
humidity gets up very high it is almost like trying to breathe water.
You show up a little after
daylight, and get your sack that you are going to drag throughout the day. It
will get heavier and heavier until it gets full enough to weigh. You didn't
want to turn in a half sack due to the extra time it takes for the weighing and
book keeping.
So the drudgery went on,
picking for a penny a pound. Since the ground was poor and didn't produce a
good crop - - the picking was that much harder to get your hundred pounds you
hoped for.
Soon the sun begins to bear
down and the dust and sweat gets into every crevice where your clothing touched
the skin and the chafing causes the skin to be irritated producing pain. The
only hope for relief is when the skin numbs out to where the pain is tolerable.
It is a long way by foot to
the river and after a hard days work you settle for just washing up with a wash
rag.
After some food, what is on
your mind is the next days work and another dollar you will have to spend for
dresses and shoes.
In society, there is a line
drawn where the women above that line wore things like slips and underwear but
our cotton pickers lived below that line and didn't often have money for those
luxuries.
On this particular day it was
as described as above and one of the girls doubled with pain. This excruciating
pain was centered down on the right side and nothing would help ease it. It was
several miles to the hospital and walking was out of the question.
There were one or two cars in
the local area that ran part of the time and after three hours they were able
to get some transportation. The ride itself was almost too much to bear for the
dirt roads were filled with potholes and when ran over it would send a shot of
pain throughout the whole body.
An hour later the search for
a doctor began for he wasn't in his office and another hour was lost while the
pain continued. When the doctor examined
the girl it was get her to the hospital now, both he and she raced to the
operating room and he cut the burst appendix out. Though it was touch and go
she recovered with a nasty scar as a reminder of the misfortunate happening.
What does a poor country farm
family do when you have an unexpected bill for an operation and doctor bill
presented to you?
You sell one of your milk
cows and it will take a year to recover from this, but it is something you are
forced to do because you pay your bills and you just do it.
As you think about the why of
this situation and conclude "It was just a hard day’s day."
This is a true story about my
Aunt Minnie Hazel and is shared at
