AN ABUNDANT LIFE
by Brenda Looney
Rain was pouring down as I exited my van and ran up the old wooden
stairs to Florence's house. I shook out my umbrella on the porch and
knocked on the door of the quaint, old country home. Florence answered
the door with a smile and a warm "Hello, come on in." Barely five foot
tall, she had on a dainty shirtwaist dress, covered in tiny violets. Her
old watery blue eyes twinkled, and her thin, silver hair was braided
neatly and wrapped around her head like a halo. She opened up her arms
and hugged me. I could feel how frail her tiny body was next to me.
There was a lump in my throat because my mission that day was a sad one.
Florence was going to a nursing home and I was there to help her dispose
of all her worldly goods. It had been printed in the church bulletin
that there was to be a sale here. Everything must go.
Florence had never married. She had lived with her dear friend,
Charlotte for over 55 years. Charlotte had died a couple years ago. They
were affectionately always referred to as the old maids. Florence was no
longer able to live on her own and care for herself, and was in poor
health. There was a place waiting for her at the nursing home owned by
the church.
The two women had always been old as far back as I could remember.
Both were retired and lived a quiet, Godly life. They were thrifty, old
fashioned, and 100% country women. They sacrificed often and did without
so that they could contribute money to the church. I remember once
Florence put off getting a new coat she wanted to donate money to a
missionary who was in need of financial assistance.
Looking around
the house, I spotted an old trundle sewing machine. I couldn't believe
anyone still used one of those, but Florence assured me that until her
eyes dimmed, she had indeed used it to sew all of their clothes.
I opened up the linen closet to take stock of what was there and saw
stacks of home made quilts neatly folded. I pulled one out and could
tell it was old and worn, and I was impressed with the neat, tiny
stitches and how much work had gone into it. The sheets were hand made
cotton sheets worn thin and patched over, starched, and pressed. There
were also many crocheted afghans in bright colors that the two women had
made over the years. They always gave gifts of hand crocheted baby
afghans at showers, and young mothers were always thrilled to get them.
The living room had a big fireplace and this was the only source of
heat in the old house. The dining room table had a beautiful hand
crocheted cloth over it. The furniture was old, primitive, but well made
and solid. A hutch contained old tea cups and china brought by
Charlotte from England as a young woman. In the bedroom there was an old
feather bed piled down with old quilts and blankets. On the dresser sat
an oil lamp next to a picture of her beloved friend, Charlotte.
In the kitchen pantry, there were shelves lined with
hundreds of jars of canned goods. Every year, the two women would put in
a huge garden and then they would work hard canning for weeks on end.
Peaches, pears, green beans, pickles and jams in a rainbow of colors.
The fruits of their labors all lined up neatly in long rows. There were
all the basics for cooking and baking. On one wall of the kitchen there
was an ancient cook stove that I'm sure was as old as I was. There was
no microwave or electric blenders or even a Mr. Coffee. An old
percolator sat out waiting for the next cup to be brewed. I spotted an
old whistling tea kettle worn from years of daily use. They cooked
everything from scratch and there was never any waste.
The rain had stopped so I walked out the back screen door and it
slammed behind me. I ventured out to the old wooden shed to see what was
there. The first thing I spotted was an old push lawn mower and some
rusty old watering cans. The garden tools were basic and functional.
There was nothing fancy here and not one electric weed whip.
Everything was done by hand the old way.
I looked around
the yard and spotted old grape vines growing on the fence. There were
several apple trees and peach and pear trees. I saw some raspberry
bushes and a strawberry patch. There wasn't much that they didn't grow.
They truly lived off the land.
Beauty was not forgotten
as many flowers were planted around the house. Old lilac bushes,
peonies, iris, and rambling roses were wrapped around the house and
yard. Over by the well house there were old clay pots stacked by size
all in a row. By their looks I'm sure they had been used over and over
each year to grow many plants.
Florence and Charlotte had
led a self-sufficient lifestyle. They grew their own fruit and
vegetables and had chickens for eggs and meat. Their clothes and linens
all were hand made. They had wood for heat and a well for water. They
didn't own a television and their spare time was devoted to Bible study
or volunteering to bake for a church dinner or help some young couples
in the congregation by baby-sitting. Since neither had ever had children
they enjoyed baby-sitting and sharing other people's children and lives.
Florence and Charlotte were two of the most Godly women I
have ever known who were the best example of a self-sufficient, simple
and quiet lifestyle. Their values were based on their faith in God. They
put all their problems in prayer and lived a long life abundant in what
the Earth could provide. Their basic needs were met and they were loved
by all who knew them.
By the end of the day, Florence
looked exhausted. The house had been filled with dozens of people buying
up and carting out all of Florence's material belongings. Everyone
hugged Florence good-bye and there was nothing much left. I tried to
imagine how she must have felt. Throughout the day she was busy talking
to all who had come. Every item she sold had a story she had to tell
about it. IT was as though she wanted a small piece of herself to go
with it.
She opened up a bureau drawer and handed me a
beautiful quilt and told me she wanted me to have it. She said that she
had made this for herself when she was young for her hope chest. As she
had never married, it was tucked away and never used. That quilt
symbolized a dream never fulfilled.
I helped Florence
pack her clothes up and load them in the van. We walked through the now
empty rooms to be sure we hadn't forgotten anything. She picked up the
small picture frame with Charlotte's picture in it. Someone had set it
down on a windowsill when the dresser was moved. Holding it in her tiny
old hands, Florence lovingly rubbed the frame. She said "Charlotte old
girl, we had a good life here didn't we?" She wiped a tear from her eye
and clutched the picture to her chest. I put my arm around her and we
walked out of the house locking the door behind us. I helped her down
the old wooden stairs. Looking back one more time we saw a beautiful
rainbow in the sky arching over the treetops.
Florence
and Charlotte had indeed shared an abundant life.
FLORENCE
BULLOCK
Born 15 Mar 1892
Died Dec 1984
Memories of
an Abundant Life * Family Ties
* Flowers
& Friends
Grandpas'
Picture * In
Rememberance * Letter to My
Father
The Time of My
Life * My
Father * To My Husband
Sweetheart
Overseas * My Dove
* My
Favorite Places
My Garden in
Bloom * My Animal
Children * No More
New Pages !!!
Christmas
Gift * Pumpkin * Empty Nest
* Beyond
Tears * The Red Rose
* Annie's Story
of Great Depression *
Garden
Pictures * Coming Into
Manhood * I
Love How You Love Me *
Time
To Give Thanks * Autumn
Memories * Sunset *My First Mothers'
Day *
The
Gift * Neighbors
* Seasons of Life
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