So...This Is Grace

SO –THIS IS GRACE

by

Donna Anderson

Llanos Publishing, LLC, for the Smashwords Edition of e-books

SO –THIS IS GRACE

Copyright 2010 by Donna Anderson

All rights reserved. Written permission must be secured from the author to use or reproduce any part of this book, except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Author: Donna Anderson

SO –THIS IS GRACE- May 2012

ISBN-13: 978-1-4524514-7-3

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

First Paper Printing:

Bang Printing.

3323 Oak St.

Brainerd, MN 56401

www.bangprinting.com

Acknowledgments

I want to thank everyone who helped with stories they knew from Grace’s past. Special thank you to my cousins Darwin, Weldon, Loraine, Marilyn, and Ray who had stories from their families and Grace’s siblings. My sister-in-laws Dorothy, Darlene, and Jackie who shared special memories they had of mom. My brother Eldyn and my sister Annette who always were there to help check facts and research data. I am grateful to my dad Harold who has left a legacy of family history in the stories he related and the tapes he provided of so much history. A trip to Walker, MN and the Historical Society building at 210 MN Ave. W. helped to put Ah-Gwah-Ching the health care facility in perspective and provided some pictures. I am also grateful to find the picture of the Ford Motel T from the Ford Company Web sight in their Archive pictures, to help complete the picture of the long drive from Southern MN to Walker, MN. A big thank you to my friend Zaundra, who is the first non-family person to read it and do some editing of it. She has been a great source of help in sequencing events and punctuation along with her encouragement. Thank you to my son’s Scott, Todd, and Brett, who have encouraged me along the way. Most of all I want to thank my husband Warren who continued to encourage me and was my sounding board through so many readings. You all have been supportive and I cannot thank you enough.

Author’s Notes

There were several reasons I began researching for this book. The first and foremost is to honor my mother. I also wanted to get to know her better and this began a journey with visits by letter, email, phone, and in person with many family members. Mother was a very private person and each of us knew a small portion of her life but none of us had very much information on any given part except where we were actually part of it ourselves.

So although to honor mother and to get to know her was the beginning, I found another reason and that was to put together her history for the family to know. I have taken the facts of all the situations and events I learned from all the family and have woven a story around them. These events are all real stories with some of my fiction added here and there to complete the story. For the family as they read it I hope they will recognize their story or stories and events they had shared with me. I am sure there are many more stories that I missed and I hope in reading this rendition of her life those stories will be brought to mind. For those of you who read it who are not family members, I hope it helps bring to mind your own stories of past generations.

Grace was born in 1911 in Homestead, Montana in the northeast part of the state, on the edge of the Fort Beck Indian Reservation. It was a family with four older siblings. Beryl, her next younger sibling was born at Homestead also in October, of 1914. Sometime after he turned a year old the family moved to Popular, Montana, about sixty five miles southwest of Homestead. This was near the Popular River, which drains into the Missouri River. This also appears to be at the edge of the same reservation. The summer of 1916, after the move, there was another sister Charlotte added to the family. Two summers later in 1918, the family again moved to Flaxville, Montana almost straight north some fifteen miles from the Canadian border and the northern edge of the same reservation. It was there the last son Charles was born in Jan. of 1919.

Chronology – 1916 to 2003

1916 – 1918 Childhood: Chapters 1 through 3

1919 – 1920 Family Separation: Chapter 4

1920 – 1926 New Family: Chapter 5

1926 – 1928 School Time, New Love: Chapters 6 and 7

1928 – 1935 Family Begun, It’s A Wonderful Life: Chapter 8

1936 Difficult Times-Illness: Chapter 9 through 13

1936 – 1937 Lonely: Chapter 14

1937 – 1939 New Horizons–New Love: Chapter 15 through 17

1940 – 1960 Family Additions: Chapter 18

1960 – 1990 On the Road: Chapter 19

1990 - 1999 Shadows: Chapter 20

2000 – 2003 Rest Comes: Chapter 21

~ * ~

CHILDHOOD

1916 - 1918

Chapter 1

THE SUNSHINE IN ITS BRIGHTNESS STREAKED across the eastern Montana sky, sending long spikes of light into the still darkened horizon of the early morning sky. Grace scurried down along the path keeping as close an eye on her older sister as she could. Her sister, Frances, moved fast as she scooped up the round discs of various sizes and placed them in the small pail she carried. Come on Grace! she called, as she hurried on with the task mom had sent her on.

Grace however; found it hard to not look at the pretty flowers she spotted at the side of the path. Flowers always drew her eyes to look, even though she really was out to help her sister collect the firebox filler. With a quick sweeping motion of her left hand, Grace brushed the tall flower. Letting her fingers find the sturdy stem, with a quick jerk she held the delicate white flower in her small hand. She smiled into the small face bringing it up to her nose to give a quick sniff of its delightful fragrance. Oh, Momma will like this one. She thought as she ran now to catch up with her sister. The pail was now more than half full because of Frances’ work. Grace began her own search for the ‘pies’. With eyes trained to the dusty trail and the surrounding areas, Grace ran picking up the dry dung ‘cow pies’ that the herd has so graciously left. Soon the pail was heaping and the sisters turned to head home.

Frances found it hard walking over the rough path and keeping the pail from tilting too much. Some of the top discs slid to the ground. After several attempts at keeping the pail from tipping and spilling, Frances with an exhausted shrug of her thin shoulders said sharply, Grace, the least you could do is walk behind me and help me know when I have lost some of these. You could pick them up and carry a few for a bit. When your hands get too full you could tell me and then we can put them back into the pail.

Okay, Gracie said, as she bent to pick up one of the pies. She found it hard to walk carefully carrying the pies so as not to break it. They were so dry they broke or flaked off without much help at all. It seemed that too many were dropping and every few feet Grace squatted down and with careful little fingers of a five-year-old picked up the spillage. Frances, I can’t carry so many of them, and they brake too easy.

With a sigh, Frances stopped walking and turned around to view Grace. A small smile spread across her face and her eyes danced with amusement. Oh, Grace, you’re doing a good job. She knelt down in front of her and began taking the pies from Grace’s hands.

Grace looked down at her dress and saw the mess of dusty dirt spread all over the front of the once clean smock. Oh, she looked a mess. At the same time, she thought of the beautiful flower she wanted to bring home to Momma. Where did it go? As quick as the thought came she knew she must have dropped it. She whirled around and took several steps back along the path just passed. No flower of any kind to be seen. I have to find my flower, she whimpered, I wanted it for Momma.

Great big tears formed in her eyes. As one silently rolled down her smudged cheeks leaving a trail of wetness, Frances knelt down in front of Grace and with gentle strokes of her own skirt wiped at the tears. She really did look a little funny what with the grime of the cow pies spread all over her dress and face and then crying. I’m sorry Grace. I forgot you had a flower for Momma. Maybe we can walk slower and we should be able to find another flower before we get back home. Picking up the now refilled pail, Frances turned to resume the path and walk home. Now however, the girls went a little slower and looking at both sides of the path, tried to find a bright and open flower. Frances carried the pail now in front of her and wrapped her arms around it, while holding it tight to her body. With some relief, she found that all the pies stayed in place and no more fell.

With a small squeal, Grace ran off the path to the right into a small patch of little flowers all white with yellow centers. She bent down to sniff. Did they smell as good as the one she had picked earlier? Sure enough, these were wonderful. The delightful sweet scent tickled her nose and she chose the one she wanted. With a quick pull on the stem, she plucked the largest blossom. With a light heart, she danced back to the path laughing and raising her arms in the air with the blossom bouncing in her hand. I found one and it smells even better than the other one. Momma will really like this one. Frances smiled and urged Grace to walk in front of her now. Time was wasting and they needed to get back. She didn’t need to have Momma get worried and send the boys out to look for them.

Momma was busy with the morning chores when Grace and Frances returned with the fuel. The pail filled to the top now sat in the corner of the small sod home. Grace put the small delicate flower on the kitchen table stopping long enough to study the white curved petals with their tiny veins. How did those little veins know where to curve? Momma says that is how the very tip of the flower gets its food. God must be awfully smart to make a flower. With a curved finger, Grace gingerly touched the yellow center, and then with a sigh, wiped the tiny yellow pollen onto her skirt. Momma, did you see the pretty flower I found for you this morning? she asked

Momma absently looked at the table where Grace stood expectantly. A small smile played on her lips, I thought you went out to help Frances with the fuel – not to pick flowers.

Oh, I did Momma; I just found one flower this morning. It is so dainty, so white. Can you see the little veins in it Momma? God sure can make nice flowers can’t He?

He sure can, assured Momma as she turned back to kneading the bread dough.

Fresh bread baked in the old cast iron stove smelled so good and even tasted the very best while still warm. The golden brown of the crust and the soft white interior made it delightful to look at as well as to eat. The newly churned butter, spread on it in generous amounts, melted rather quickly. Breakfast time filled with the sounds of teasing siblings. The three older brothers jockeyed for the loudest place in the conversation as the discussion began about the days work time. LeRoy, at age thirteen, had very diffident ideas about herding the cows down in the meadows to the east of the home. He as the oldest felt that he needed to make the decision. After all, he needed to be the ‘head of the house’ because dad was away again. Vernon, at eleven years, had a more laid back attitude. It didn’t make too much difference just where they herded the cattle, it needed to be done and he would help to get it done. Then there was Elmer. At ten years, he had quite an attitude of being the loudest and most verbal in his need to help in making the decisions.

The grass is better out along the south ridge. We need to go there so it doesn’t get so long.

But we need to finish the meadow before we move them to a new area, LeRoy responded.

No we don’t, it all grows the same, and it all gets the same rain and sun. It is easier to watch them on the ridge then in the meadow and I don’t want to go to the meadow, we’ve been there all week, complained Elmer.

Well, we can play a little catch out in the meadow while we watch them, offered Vernon. If we go to the ridge it will take all of us to keep them from going too far away, or getting lost in one of them gullies.

LeRoy looked at Momma, hoping she would step in and redirect the conversation as to who should make the decision. However, Momma, while clearing the table, chose to stay out of it for the time being. Elmer turned his attention to the girls.

Are you girls going to go with us or do you get to stay here and play with your ‘babies’? he asked with a smirk. Be sure to keep them diapers changed and not stinking up the house if you do. he teased.

With dishes cleared and hot water in the pan for dishwashing sitting on the table, Frances pulled a chair over beside the pan. Then with swift confident movements, she began putting dirty dishes in the pan. Placing a small amount of Momma’s homemade soap in the water, she began swishing movements in the water to create the suds. It worked every time, first small bubbles begin and then they multiplied and became a small mountain of white fluff

Come on Grace, you can get up on the chair and wipe the dishes for me, Frances encouraged. One by one, the girls cleaned and wiped the dishes and set them back on the table.

Momma was busy with baby Beryl. At twenty months of age, he sure could get into things. It seemed he got faster every day. I bet daddy would see a big change in him when he gets home.

The evening air cooled quite quick. The boys busied themselves with picking up the loose hay lying all over the field. With pitchforks they picked up bunches of the hay and with a swift motion it was thrown on top of the piles now growing in the ensuing dusk. There always was a steady flow of bantering between the three as they threw the hay to the top of the pile. Little beads of sweat formed on their faces and they worked hard burning off the evening meal with their efforts.

In the house, the few chores were done and little Beryl had been put down to sleep for the night. Momma looked at the girls, a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, she suggested they go out side. The sun had set into a clear sky and the glow of its light made a small ridge of yellow and pinks just at the horizon. Let’s play a trick on the boys, she said with a light laugh.

Grace and Frances giggled with delight as Momma always had fun ideas. What are we going to do, Momma? they asked as Momma scurried around the side of the house and moved towards the clothesline. With a swift motion she pulled the dark brown blanket from the line and swung it around her shoulders

With a light step, she started towards the field where the boys were finishing the hay piles. Behind her, the girls followed, stepping as quiet as they could. Now and then, a giggle would escape their lips and Momma would say Shh. They would fell silent. The distance was covered in record time and at the edge of the field, Momma stopped.

Turning to the girls she said, Now stay here, when I get closer you can holler to the boys that you think there is a bear. With that, Momma pulled the blanket up over her head and crouching down moved slowly towards the large hay pile where the boys were finishing their work.

Frances and Grace sat quiet, hardly breathing, watching Momma make her progress towards the haystack. The sun and the glow had gone now and with some effort, the girls could see Momma as she dropped down to her hands and knees and began crawling the remainder of the distance. Now and then, she let out a low ‘growl’ and the girls each let out a soft giggle. The boys were so busy they didn’t even see her coming

Momma waved an arm at the girls and they took the clue and began yelling, Look a bear! Momma ‘growled’ loud several times and began standing up with the blanket draped over her body. The boys all turned at the same time and began yelling and throwing their pitchforks towards the ‘bear’.

Frances and Grace began screaming and running towards the boys and Momma. Momma whipped the blanket off but, she began laughing so hard she could hardly stand up. The boys didn’t know how to react. They could have hurt Momma. Leroy and Vernon didn’t think it very funny. Momma kept laughing and before long they all were laughing and talking about the bear and how surprised they were. Slowly they all turned and headed for the house. By the time they were back, the night had become very dark but their eyes were adjusted to it and knowing their way, not a step they missed.

~ * ~

Chapter 2

WITH SLEEPY EYES, GRACE TURNED SLOWLY to her right side. The dawn brought pink morning light to fill the little home and made it easier to see. With a large yawn, she quietly watched her siblings sleeping just inches apart where they all laid in single file, oldest to youngest. A straw mat on the wood floor of the loft served as the mattress for all. Grace’s small pillow felt better after a little rearranging, and she pulled her blanket up close around her small chin. The quiet rhythm of her brothers breathing brought a sure sense of safety along with the familiar form of her sleeping sister right next to her. She snuggled down under the cover and closed her eyes, just a little while and all the quiet of the night would be gone. As she drifted off to a light sleep she wondered just when her daddy would be coming home. She missed him.

Morning brought the usual things, like several chores each of the five older kids, needed to be done before breakfast. Mom, while working on bread for the day, finished getting the meal ready and on the table. She surveyed her young family. The boys were now sitting eagerly awaiting the serving of the food while the girls were finishing putting the remaining silverware in place. Momma’s face seemed a little tense today; she didn’t smile easy or talk much.

Frances watched her Momma with a quiet and growing concern. She whispered to Grace to be quiet stating, I think Momma maybe is sick, so we have to try to help her.

Grace turned as she placed the last fork on the table next to Elmer’s place and silently eyed Momma. What could be wrong with Momma?