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by Donna Jones-Flood |
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Whether the wind was like a monster alive, once
a
banshee, again a moaning ghost, sometimes a
whispering thing or a violent jerking adversary
the
children must have been aware of but; still and
the same,
even in their tiny sizes; they were able to
stand up to it.
This was because those little ones were held
close
around her skirts and with the hands of their
American
Indian Mother, Velma. This morning there was a grayness all about the landscape with no sun in sight. There was too, a pulling and pounding by the wind at the big house which was built before the thought of insulation. That house was large and, no doubt, provided the most beautiful summertime living for those who could or would just simply survive the miserable winters there. Velma had closed off all the rooms except this one room where they huddled. It in itself was large and was not exactly what one would call cozy. There was a steady fire in the little cook stove, where upon set a tin of yeast muffins. The lack of burnable material on the prairie dictated they be frugal also with their heating fuel which was wood and sometimes the dried cow chips picked up by their father. The little girl knew it was frigid even though her mittened fingers could not feel her cold nose and face. Their mother had bundled them up in their heaviest clothes up to, and including a coat. The coats Velma had sewn from fabric cut down from the tails of the adults old coats, or any other part which was not worn. The Children were always as proud of the coats as if they were stepping into something the adults themselves had been happy to own. By any standards, the good wool and forever stylish colors of neutral tan and beige tones made the garment. "Come close to the stove, Children." Velma hugged them to her. "Look! I have some yeast rolls to put into the oven. They will be so delicious with Gramma Bell's sand plum jelly. I have already cleaned and fried a pullet. Look! Delicious milk gravy." The cleaning of the chicken the children had earlier watched from their perch at the window. Velma had a way of catching the birds with a long heavy wire.Their father had built a small three legged stool with a log setting on the legs for her chopping block. To see her dip the bird into the hot pan of water she had on a small fire outside meant nothing at the time. However, when the girl became older she was thankful she knew this when she realized it was impossible to pluck the feathers without this step. Much later in the girl's life she would think about this cleaning of animals when she came to study in her classes as to working parts of an living thing. The mystery of it was always there, and not until she became a older woman did science begin to come into an understanding, only in a most primitive way of some of that very intricate design. It was then she appreciated her mother and father's teaching. " Life is sacred. Do not take it in vain. Anything you hunt or raise for food must be treated with respect." When the child returned to the ranch house to live now as a grown woman, one of the neighbors was visiting and said, "I'd bring you some fish, but a city gal like you probably wouldn't know how to clean them. "You just bring me the fish Mr. Fulsom, I guarantee you, I know how to clean them," she had laughed. As a result they enjoyed many a meal of fine bass from fresh water ponds. Here again was a lesson tied to their hearts coming from this thinking old gentleman, who was also a master rancher; but who was teaching them a way of friendship. He didn't have to take time to stop by and visit. He had no motive or need to give of himself for this young couple, but he did. This was a man who, like their mother, Velma, met the challenges of a life time in providing for their families. Velma was a woman of unmeasured courage. She could "think on her feet," as the expression goes. Some had the nerve to say she was an opportunist. Whatever the world wanted to call her or say about her, only God stood quietly above and took notes of how she cared for her children out on the very vast lonely prairie. |
Yeast Muffin Recipe 1 package active dry yeast 2 cups warm water 3/4 cups margarine, melted 1/4 cup sugar 1 egg 4 cups flour 1 tsp. Salt 2 tsp baking powder Dissolve yeast in warm water. Stir in melted margarine, egg, sugar, stir well. Combine flour, baking powder, and salt and to yeast mixture. Use an electric mixture (something Velma didn't have) and beat batter until smooth. Divide mixture into 12 paper lined muffin tins Bake in a 350 degree over 25-35 minutes or until golden brown and tested for doneness. Remove from tins to cool. Serve at room temperature or reheated in the microwave. These will freeze well. There is no need to rise the recipe |
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