Monday Morning Boost: The Christmas Widow
Cora Howes was the old and frail white-haired widow who lived just around the corner from where I grew up. Her house was very small with only a small front room, one bedroom, and a tiny kitchen between the two. At some point, a bathroom was squeezed into the mix when indoor plumbing replaced the outhouse. The only source of heat during the cold winters was a small wood stove.
My dad taught me it was my job to make sure there was wood cut and stacked by the door, coal placed in the tin bucket, and her broken sidewalk and gravel driveway, both very difficult to shovel, were kept clear of snow.
Ironically, while I think I must have done this dozens of times over a couple of years before she passed away, in reality, I can only remember a few times actually doing it. I’m guessing my dad picked up the slack of this 8 to 10 year old kid.
I remember one Christmas the church youth group I was part of decorated a fresh-cut tree to take to Cora. She was delightfully surprised as we crammed into her tiny home. I remember looking around and wondering if that was the first time to actually be inside her home. It came as quite a shock to my young soul (I guess I was 14-16 at the time) when I realized the gift of friendship I had missed out on.
I don’t remember much of Cora after that time. I assume by now she has finished her mortal journey, but I have had no luck finding her obituary. Her home is still there, expanded somewhat including a second story on the back addition. I don’t remember what color it is. I wonder if it still has a wood stove and a tin coal bucket by the side door.
What moments may you be remembering today?
Have a beautiful Monday! Thanks for letting me share,
I Love You!
Les
p.s. Take 13 minutes today to ponder a memory from your youth.
Photo by Unsplash
