APRIL LOVE

APRIL LOVE
By,
Kathleene S. Baker

The toil of harvesting summer crops had ceased in central Kansas. Garden vegetables were canned and stored away in cellars along with jellies, jams, and such; and wood was piled high in preparation for the cold months ahead. Farm folk welcomed the invigorating fall temperatures that descended across the plains, and looked forward to a short respite before the rawness of winter encompassed them.

Thanksgiving was drawing near and Grandmother Boucher’s family had much to be thankful for. Rain had been plentiful that year, crops had thrived, and a blessed event was on the way. Her fourth child was due in early January.

By means of horse and buggy, Grandmother and her eldest daughter journeyed to church one Sunday morning in mid November of 1917. They arrived to find many members of the congregation already inside. Buggies were scattered about the front of the churchyard; horses were neighing, snorting, and filling the brisk morning air with clouds of mist from flared nostrils.

With another child on the way Grandma didn’t find the old, wooden, church pew especially comfortable. Yet, she held her Bible in one hand and rested the other on her ever-swelling abdomen while greeting friends and neighbors.

“Hello, Flora. It’s nice to see so many folks here this morning. Many of us have missed services during harvest.” Lillie Patterson was seated directly in front of Grandmother and had turned around to speak. The families had lived on neighboring farms for years. They chatted up a storm as Lillie tried to keep her huge brood of children quiet, which required several swats even though they were in church.

The circuit preacher ran late that cold, wintry morning. His old riding horse was getting on in years, and more often than not he was a bit tardy. When he did arrive, he was nearly frozen to the bone and launched into his sermon having never removed his gloves.

Once he concluded with a final “Amen,” the congregation did not linger. Even with the decrepit, old, wood burning stove working overtime; everyone had remained bundled up in his or her coat. Quick goodbyes were offered as folks set off on cold, slow trips home.

Bumping along in the buggy Grandma mentioned to her daughter, Ethel, “I see Mrs. Patterson has another child on the way too. If I’m right, this will be her tenth.”

“Mom, are you sure? With everyone wrapped in heavy coats how could you tell?”

“Oh, I know just from watching her shoulders. I could tell by the way she was breathing,” replied Grandma quite smugly.

A frigid winter was soon upon them; it blasted its way out of the Colorado Rockies across the plains of Kansas and snowstorms came in rapid succession. Additionally, several artic storms swooped straight down out of Canada and sent temperatures well below freezing. Seeing after livestock was difficult work even for those of hearty stock -- keeping ice broken so livestock had access to water and hauling feed was a fulltime job.

The holiday season was bitter, and as with most families, Christmas was meager. It was, however, picture perfect with the landscape buried in snow. Even cattle wore a layer of snow on their backs and looked as if they were sporting white blankets.

In those days children were happy with nothing more than an orange and a few nuts in their stockings – although everyone looked forward to a fine holiday feast. Huge hams were fetched from smokehouses, while vegetables and jellies were retrieved from cellars for Christmas dinner. It was the one time of year sugar was not hoarded; homemade desserts and candies were savored slowly, bite by precious bite. Especially Grandma Boucher’s homemade chocolate covered cherries!

In early January of 1918 Grandma gave birth to her fourth child, my father; he was named Raymond.

In early February of 1918 Lillie Patterson gave birth to her tenth child, my mother; she was named Lovey.

By the time these two youngsters were in the third grade they were taking notice of one another, even though they were at the age when girls and boys claim to hate each other! They attended the same one-room school for several years, until Lovey’s family moved to a farm on the far side of the community.

In a matter of years, Lovey and Raymond were attending high school together and it seemed almost predestined they would begin courting. It was a Wednesday evening when Dad proposed and they agreed to “tie the knot” exactly one week later at the courthouse. Times were lean and few people had actual church weddings.

Two days later they realized their wedding would fall on “All Fools Day” (as Dad still calls it)! Well, Mother raised her eyebrows at that revelation! Nonetheless, she finally consented with one unwavering condition; a Methodist minister must perform the ceremony in lieu of a judge. With very little time and some fancy footwork, Dad pulled it all together and they said, “I do.”

From that day forward, the usually straight-laced Grandmothers delighted in reliving that blustery morning of 1917, sitting in church with new babies on the way. And they were forever relentless with comical remarks of their “two little fools” falling in love, and being so impetuous as to marry on All Fool’s Day.

©2006 Kathleene S. Baker
YELLOW ROSE
www.txyellowrose.com

Story ID:	246
Written by:	Kathleene S Baker (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Family History
Location:	Augusta Kansas USA
Year:	1918
Person:	Mom & Dad