Papa's Funeral

She was just a young girl growing up in the hills of Kentucky and she was the oldest child.  Her parents worked hard to put food on the table and she and her brother's and sisters helped by cooking, gathering fire wood, helping with the laundry, and feeding the animals on their small Kentucky farm.  They had plenty of food to eat from their garden and life was hard, but good until one gray, cold, December day just before Christmas.


On this day her daddy suddenly got ill and died.  Doctors were scarce and even if they got to the rural areas in time their expertise and medical equipment was just not enough to save lives.


The morning of Papa's funeral was gloomy and dark, just like the soul's inside the little farm house as they tried to dress for the service.   Every movement that Viola tried to make was a forced one and one that she had to concentrate on to make.  Members of her family moved around like zombies.  She saw Mamie in her long, black silk gown and black hat on her head pick up her purse.  She called for the children to get in the wagon, it was time to go.  


At last the grave side service was over and they climbed back into the wagon for the trip back home.  The sky was really gray now, a murky color, in fact, and it was beginning to snow.  Everyone pulled their blankets up to their chins trying to stay warm as old "Bob" plodded toward home. Seemed like he sensed the sadness too. 


When they finally arrived the snow flakes were even bigger and the snow was blanketing the ground.  Viola went in and helped her brothers start a fire, as Mamie took off her hat and gloves to prepare something to eat.  The house had never felt this cold and lonely before.  


They finally had a nice fire burning brightly in the fireplace, when there was a knock at the door.  When Viola answered, there stood a neighbor lady, who live about 5 miles up the road from them.  In her arms she was carrying a basket of food.  She came into the house.  Mamie came from the kitchen to greet her.  The neighbor told her, she was coming to spend the night with the family.  All of a sudden there seemed to be a little relief on the faces of all the family.  Someone was there to share in their grief and make their load a little lighter and their dark world that night a little brighter.


Note:  The above story was taken from what I heard my grandmother relate to my mother about the night after her father's funeral.  As she related this story, she started to cry.  She told my mother that the neighbor lady probably never knew how much that meant to her that night. I've never forgot what this neighbor did also.


"And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."  Matthew 22:39