Monthly Archives: December 2011

Merry Christmas

19 December 2011
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Here comes Santa Clause

Merry Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house not a creature was stirring…….not even a mouse?

As our grandfather Pone told us children such stories as that…in hope that we would quickly fall asleep…and that would  be that. But instead there was a whole lot of stirring in our house….and it was much more than a mouse! Our insides were so anxious and our mouths chattered back…..for we were certain we would stay awake, until we saw Santa with the toys in his sack. We would pause and be quiet for a moment at best, listening for the sounds of jingles…and the boisterous Ho! Ho! Ho! ….that would soon bring us rest. We knew there would be 9 famous reindeer pulling the sleigh ….Rudolf….the most famous of all….would be leading his way.

We knew Santa would land in the yard, as our roof was so small… and we had no chimney at all. Pone assured us that Santa would find his way into our house… to leave toys, and gifts for all. “Well shouldn’t we unlock the door?”….. “And are you sure he will find the cookies and milk we left….cause we surely want him to be jolly and happy above all.”

We wiggled, we squirmed, we could not be still….what if he trips and he falls….since we have no chimney and all? And how can he visit if our parents are gone? Surely he knows that you are only our Pone! Oh we were assured he would be there by the end of day, the lights from our tree would show him the way… Then our grandpa would remind us, Santa knew we were awake. He knew everything about us… for goodness sake! He would tell us we must get to sleep …after all, Santa had lots of visits and trips to keep. There was a world full of children waiting as well…..way more than we could ever begin to tell.

My, how can he eat so many cookies and milk? Are you sure he will be hungry for the ones that we make? ….That’s why he’s so fat …from all the cookies he’s ate…and why it takes so many reindeer to pull  about his weight.

Finally we knew we must fall asleep… we wanted all the children to get their toys, gifts, and treats. As we would peer out our window and up to the stars we knew he was out there for everyone….children above all. Gosh how we wished we could see him …even if it were from a far. But for sure we knew he was there…out beyond all the stars.

First thing Christmas morning, before any stirring in the house… we ran to the lighted tree as quiet as could be. With smiles on our faces and twinkles in our eyes we could see Santa left us each a surprise. Our Pone had been right…the cookies were gone…and all the toys were displayed perfect in sight. The chatter began, excitement filled the room; and quietly in our minds was the thought… maybe next year we could stay awake…as quiet as a mouse… and see Santa as he enters our house!

The faith of children is so precious.  Their dreams, expectations and realizations are simple, yet extraordinary.  You see this is but a simple story about my three brothers, me, and our grandpa Pone. It comes without a lot of facts and details but it is true, real, and full of the faith we had as children. My hope and prayer is that we always know God has given us the greatest gift of all…. ‘Jesus’. He is the perfect gift available to us every day of our lives. He wants us to go to Him and love Him with the same faith as that of a child at Christmas…and He will do extraordinary things in and through our lives.

Merry Christmas and Love to All ….

When you finish reading the story be sure to click on the link above the picture to hear the song…

“Here Comes Santa Clause” by Rodger McFarland

This story is dedicated to all my family members and to my grandfather ‘Pone’ Amos Venson Turner (Dec 23, 1908 – June 5, 1967). … Happy Birthday Pone!

I  offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your  loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about  your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away  about what you know best….your  loved ones.

Please  continue to read my blog http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed  the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine  McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer  specializing in memoirs,  life story writing,
and capturing memories of  your loved ones.

Copyright, December 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author  retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.

I’m a Little Teapot

7 December 2011
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Family Heirloom
McCoy TeaSet – A Family Heirloom

Welcome to Rocking Chair Chatter! Won’t you pull up one of those rockers over there and join me and my front porch friends as we fill the air with chatter….telling and sharing stories that have touched our hearts and our lives.

Listen to the laughter as the chatter fills the air. The wind chimes so delicately play a soft melody in the gentle breeze. Look at the old porch swing …I sure wish I could hear some of the stories that have been
shared sitting there over the years. I can only imagine. I bet it was just like in the movies….words of love….good night kisses….and even a few marriage proposals. There’s just something about a swing that captures our hearts and dreams.

Oh look, here come the little ones running anxiously and shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! Look at what we  learned today!” Smiling from ear to ear they begin to sing……

I’m a little teapot short and stout; Here is my handle; Here is my spout; When I get all steam up; Hear me shout; Tip me over and pour me out.

As I hear those words and watch them act out the part.… the right hand placed on the waist, the left turn up to the sky and curved to portrait the spout, then they tipped to the left as if they were pouring out…. It takes me back to such wonderful times as a child when I too would sing and act out that very song.

I can see visions of my mother’s collection of teapots and teacups lining her dining room shelves; as they sit so proudly displayed for all to enjoy. Somehow I think she probably sang the song when she was a little girl. Haven’t we all at one time or another?

Gosh I remember when I would visit my grandmother, Mama Mac, and my cousin and I would get a blanket and spread it out under the big shade tree at the corner of her driveway and have our make believe tea party with our make do tea set. Now those were the days…..not a care in the world. I have to think maybe that’s why little girls and big girls alike enjoy teapots and teacups so much…… It takes us back to a day in time and creates memories to be shared.

I remember Mama Mac had a special tea set that was always displayed on her coffee table in the center of her living room. It was a teapot with a matching sugar bowl and creamer. There was something unique about this particular tea set. It wasn’t as elegant as most….as they are traditionally painted with colorful flowers and the rims are outlined with gold or silver borders…. Yet this set had a different charm about it. It was bold; the rim and borders of each piece was brown in color, the handles were also brown and appeared to be the replica of a sturdy wooden branch extending to the base as it disappeared into a delicate vine of Green Ivy. To me it always portrayed a character of honor, strength, and integrity. As silly as it may seem it reminds me of the bible verse…. “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 (NKJV)

Well funny thing about this tea set….It did represent the character of honor, strength and integrity. This tea set has a story all of its own and how it came to be. As the story has been told by my mother, many years ago my grandmother worked as a cashier at the Superette Grocery Store in Ruskin. One particular day she was anxious to go to work because it was pay day. Everyone loves a ‘Pay Day.’ Money in hand always makes for a good day! Back in those days employees were paid in cash. It was placed in a special designated envelope with the employees name and total wages paid written on the outside. There was no such thing as an actual paper pay check. To my grandmother’s dismay, one of her coworkers, Guy Canaday, went to her and shared that he had lost his pay. What was he going to do? And how was he to feed his family until the next pay day? Distraught as he was, he asked my grandmother to help him look for his pay. Well low and behold before the day was over she found Guy’s pay, still in the sealed envelope, and returned it to him. Needless to say, he was ecstatic with happiness and gratefulness. He couldn’t stop thanking her…..she was an angel sent to him from heaven that day.

Out of his thankfulness he wanted to give my grandmother some money as a reward for finding his pay. She in turn refused to take the money. She was just doing what anyone else would have done. Well Mr. Guy Canaday didn’t agree with her. So he went to “McCrory’s,” the local Plant City “Five and Dime” store and purchased a 3 piece McCoy Tea Set and gave it to her as a thank you gift….. A gift she could not refuse. Of course she was proud. She had never had a tea set before. So she displayed it for all to see and admire.

My mother was the biggest fan and the one who loved and admired it most. She always commented to my grandmother just how much she loved the tea set. As a result, when my grandmother passed, she left specific instructions that the tea set was to be given to my mother, Joyce McFarland, because of her continued love for the set….. And…. after all Joyce knew the real story behind the tea set.

Today that very tea set sits boldly on the top shelf in my mother’s dining room; over and above all the other sets. It is in great condition, only showing the tiniest of cracks here and there, which I refer to as age lines…..but don’t we all have a few age lines?  The name on the bottom of the pieces is McCoy. The way the name is written is really interesting. Oddly enough, instead of a stamp or being engraved into the glass the name is raised as if it were written in Brail…and that’s not all….it is written in cursive writing in a most unusual way. The ‘o’ in Coy is a large loop at the top of the ‘C’ making it appear as one letter…It actually looks as if it says McCy. To me that in its self is fascinating and unique.

I can’t help but wonder at times, does anyone, as they walk by, stop and question…where did this 3 piece tea set come from…..and…. just what does it mean to my mother? To me, it means LOVE! …. A love between two women who had a great bond and a genuine love for one another….and they shared the love for a simple tea set to be admired for many years to come.

Just as my mother does, I also admire the set every time I walk into my mother’s home. I see an heirloom there…..a representation of love to be passed down from generation to generation…..along with the original story that portrays honor, strength and integrity.  One day I hope to see it proudly placed among my own tea sets for all to admire and to share the story.

Once again, I can hear the song singing in the air….I’m a little tea pot….and…as the wind chimes play their melody in the soft breeze, I feel the presence of my grandmother’s spirit as her story is shared with you….my front porch friends.

And who knows….maybe my grandmother also sang the song as a little girl….. I’m a little Teapot…

This article is dedicated to the memory of: Inez Pearl McCowan-McFarland “Mama Mac” (Jan 8, 1910 to Dec 29, 1973), my grandmother.

I  offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your  loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about  your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away  about what you know best….your  loved ones.

Please  continue to read my blog http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed  the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine  McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer  specializing in memoirs,  life story writing,
and capturing memories of  your loved ones.

Copyright, December 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author  retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.

Fear in the Eyes of a Child

5 December 2011
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It was 1962, baby boomers were alive and well, American Bandstand hosted by the famous Dick Clark was on the rise, drive up root beer stands and hamburger joints were on every corner,….life was just all around happy.

And there I was, a mere child; an awkward second grader with a slight whistle when I spoke due to the missing two front teeth. And when I smiled all you could see was the big gaping hole from the missing teeth. My smile looked atrocious.  So I tried my best not to smile because I did not want anyone to see that I had two missing teeth, which incidentally were missing for two years. In fact, I got to sing the song…”All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth”… two years in a row. Somewhere during this time is when I believe vanity began to take stage with me, but that’s another story.

One evening after a long day at school for a second grader, my mother so matter of fact informed me that I was going into the hospital to have my tonsils removed. “What?” “But I’m not even sick!” was my immediate reply. Yet, my mother so casually ignored my protest.

My twin brothers had just come home from the hospital. They both had gone in together and had their tonsils removed. Truth be known my mother probably received a two for one discount on them, which was fine with me. But for some ungodly reason she thought I should have mine removed…..and I wasn’t even sick. Just because my brothers did it did not mean I needed to do the same. It just didn’t make a bit of sense to me.

Trust me when I say, this did not compute in my simple mind. I’m sure this was the beginning of my thinking that my mother had a few loose screws somewhere upstairs. Sadly enough my father did nothing in my defense. Instead, he let her continue with the charades.

Well the dreaded day had come and my mother did exactly what she had said, she took me to the hospital to have my tonsils removed. Scared senseless, it was obvious I had no choice but to go along with the deranged woman.

I still remember that day as if it were yesterday…..As she walked me into St. Joseph’s Hospital I could not believe my eyes….There were witches everywhere!! Sure enough, they were dressed in long black dresses that reached the ground. They stared at me with scowl faces, looking as though they were ready to devour me once my mother left my side. But oddly enough, their black hats weren’t pointed like the pictures I had seen; instead their hats expanded sideways with long black scarves hanging from them and somehow their hair was hidden as if they were bald underneath the mass of material. Trust me when I tell you, there was not an eased bone in my body. All I could think of was…. ”Why was my mother doing this to me?” “Why would she take me to a place so horrible?” Not to mention, it was freezing cold in the place.

Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you…I wanted to turn and run of that place back into the happy world that was waiting just outside the big sliding glass doors. But non doing, it was impossible. My mother had my hand clasped tightly as though she knew I was ready to bolt.

Finally she realized my trauma. I had never seen such a sight, nor had I ever been inside a hospital since my birth. My mother explained that what I was seeing were Nuns of the Catholic faith. They were not witches as I had thought. Yet somehow, even with my mother’s explanation, I was still not at all comfortable with these odd looking creatures walking around and staring at me. They still looked like witches to me.

Then we arrived in what would be my temporary room; at least I surely hoped it would be temporary. There were two empty beds with stark white sheets folded and tucked so tight that you wondered how you could ever find comfort in such a thing. The beds had metal railings on them with sides that were raised as if you would be peering through the bars of a jail. My thoughts were….”could things get any worse?:” Then my mother informed me she would be leaving me for the night….alone…yet, she would return the next morning before I went in to surgery. Somehow her words were supposed to comfort me and help me feel safe in this cold and scary place called a hospital….but I had my reservations and was certain I would never see my mother again. The only thing that did help me is I knew my brothers had been in the week before and someway, somehow, they made it back home. They had shared their stories of eating ice cream after the surgery. So I set my mind on the ice cream and the hopes of survival until then.

My mother, just as promised, was there the next morning to kiss me, hold my hand, and assure me she would be there waiting when I came out of surgery. From that point on it is a blur as to what happened next….until they put me on the operating table. I was so groggy and everything seemed out of focus. I could hear voices all around and see faces peering at me. Straps were bolted across my body, at my chest, my waist, and across my upper thighs. I was locked down and unable to move. Then a black rubber mask came at me. They were actually planning to put it over my face, my nose, and my mouth. Panic came over me as I knew they were going to suffocate me. I began to panic uncontrollably, wiggling, twisting, bucking as hard as I could to free myself and get away from the torment. I began to smell the ether, the gas coming from the horrible mask. I shook my head back and forth fighting with all my might. Someone held my head and two people laid over my body to stop my fight. Finally I gave up the battle and knew that I was doomed never to see my family again….never to enjoy the happy world I had left outside those sliding glass doors that my mother had walked me through just the day before.

Then I awoke. My throat hurt uncontrollably. And my mother was by my side smiling down at me. At that moment I’m sure I smiled back at her…..missing teeth and all….so happy to see her face again.  It was as if I had a horrible nightmare and finally woke up. She gave me lots of crushed ice to chew on and promised in a couple of hours I too would get some ice cream just like my brothers did….for being such a good patient. Little did my mother know that I was far from good. But in my eyes, I surely deserved that bowl of ice cream….no doubt about it!

Finally the day came that I did walk out the big sliding glass doors back into the world I had known only a couple of days before. I walked out a different person…..a little person without her tonsils….and into a lifetime of claustrophobia due to the black mask forced against my face.  But that didn’t keep me from enjoying root beer floats, hamburgers, and falling in love with the music playing on American Bandstand. However,  I can say, I never wanted to dress up like a witch for any reason…..Until this day that is my truth!

This story is dedicated to my mother Eleanor Joyce Turner McFarland whom I hold no hard feelings. I love her dearly and hope she knows this is only the reality of a child…. Fear in the Eyes of a Child.

I  offer my services to write memoirs and life stories of you and your  loved ones. It’s as simple as sitting on a front porch sharing story after story about  your life and your loved ones as you relax in a rocking chair, chattering away  about what you know best….your  loved ones.

Please  continue to read my blog http://rockingchairchatter.com and be sure to keep a watch for my new website http://www.myfrontporchfriends.com/ as we continue to write our stories.

Enjoyed  the chat,

Lorraine

Lorraine  McFarland lives in Plant City, Florida. She is a professional writer  specializing in memoirs,  life story writing,
and capturing memories of  your loved ones.

Copyright, December 2011 by Lorraine McFarland. The author  retains sole copyright to her contributions to this article.