How I wish that I could relive the moment we landed in Cedar Vale. We came from a town named Beattie. We arrived, and I'm not sure how, but we landed in the "Webb House." A fine house it was! It had a porch. Had a swing! Had an upstairs and a downstairs. Had a garage. Had a little rock garden out in back. Further, out in back, I buried the dearest friend I ever had, Rusty, my dog. (We will remember him in a later "post.")
My Dad was a lumberman. He was more than that. I learn from him, to this very day. Our arrival was not euphoria. Mom wisted for her former home while Dad seemed to welcome our new home! I had my own bedroom! The folks had theirs! I remember that the only tub, was the one we had upstairs! (For those of you of poetic bent, notice the rhyme! :) ) Well, we lived there, opulence it seemed~! We even had a fireplace! And, a "spare" bedroom for those who might visit! I remember a Church of Christ Revival, and the evangelist, who stayed at our home. He was one of those fellows who became "family" real quick! I remember, when he left, my mom and I went into the room where he slept, and there, on the pillow, was a cardboard card. He had left a note for us. I'd give a dollar or two to have that card. I just remember that he said "THANK YOU," in words I still remember. He signed his name. Proof enough for me.
Well, I ambled on here long enough! I have tales to tell..and eventually, I'll tell those tales! Just know that when the cicadas begin to sing their song, I long to be where I belong,
Cedar Vale....!
3 comments:
Yes, Don, keep telling those tales!
And I also noted the rhyme in the last paragraph.
Don - You've just set the stage...
and here I sit waiting for the beginning of the stories. Don't keep us waiting too long and don't forget the rhyming or we'll be crying.(Sorry, I tried.)
Diane Archer Bradbury
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