morning with a
song on her lips
as she fired up her
old cook stove to fry eggs
and cornmeal mush or maybe to cook
oatmeal and a soft boiled egg if it
was Sunday morning. On Sundays they had to hurry
so that Great Grandpa would not be late to church.
You see, my Great Grandma Yoder was a preacher’s wife.
She and Great Grandpa opened their house to anyone
who needed a listening ear, place to stay,
or food to eat. She loved entertaining —
especially family — she would sit with
a huge smile upon her
face listening to the
conversations around her
also a farmer’s
wife. She had some
chickens, a garden, and baked
sour dough bread. My mom remembers
the house always smelling of sour dough
bread baking. I don’t remember the bread — no —
I remember pies, candy, laughter, singing, lots of food
and a yard full of boisterous relatives talking very loudly!
I also remember her red chickens. She would feed them
wearing her checked apron — she always wore checked aprons
unless it was Sunday or she was going away —
scattering the feed and scraps about for them.
They were happy and well cared for.
I was fourteen when Great Grandma
passed away. She was ninety-one.
I have been blessed
by the faith