A Short-Story from the Corner of Barbara Kasey Smith’s World
I walk the roadway to the old rundown one room school house. I’ve attended since I was six years old. The year is nineteen-hundred and forty-two in the foothills of West Virginia. It’s been six years now and I’ve been blessed not to miss a single day. The farmer’s built their homes in the valley between the mountains that surrounded them. The people in the valley connected nature with God and they worked hard never to destroy the beautiful world He provided for them. Our valley is full of loving and caring people and everyone respects their neighbors, as if they were family members, and everyone helps each other with reaping crop chores, building hay stacks, and any other large undertakings a neighbor has to do. Every family works to help the other farmers and they’re there when they’re needed.
All of this is much a part of my life and I find I’m amazed at the beauty God has bestowed upon this earth to live in and to enjoy. The walk can often be intimidating because I never know when a bear or a herd of deer will run across the road in front of me. I’ve been scared to death on many occasions and if it wasn’t for my faith in God, I don’t think I could ever walk this trip alone. The smell of the smoke from wood burning stoves in the valley, and on occasion, an aroma of slab bacon someone is frying drifts through my senses and grabs my attention. In my opinion, the country is the only life for me, I love seeing the animals giving birth, watch them grow to resemble their parents. I’ve watched as baby chicks crack open an eggshell to be born; watched a nest for hours while a mother bird feeds her young; ran to a creek to watch as tadpoles develop into frogs; and the many other wonders taking place in the country. I call this God’s country and I respect and have made a commitment to myself to preserve as much of the forest lands and pastures as I can in my lifetime and to protect the little critters God gave the world to enjoy. I’m a firm believer, God put every single thing on this earth for a purpose and there’s a need for it to be preserved to ensure critters don’t become extinct.
As I arrive at the school house, I smell the meal Mrs. Jefferson is preparing for us today and I find a peace and comfort enter my soul. There are only fourteen students in our school and all grades are taught in the one room. Mrs. Jefferson teaches all the classes and also acts as the cook for our school. Her only transportation to school is a horse and buggy. There’s a different type of hot soup and bread served every day during the winter months for lunch and during the spring and fall months, she’ll fix a pot of vegetables and potatoes or a pot of pintos or some other type of beans and serve them with cornbread. On special occasions, she’ll bring a baked cake or cookies from home and serve them to us. I love to smell the food simmering all morning on the wood stove as we’re being taught our subjects. All of the students love Ms. Jefferson like she is a second Mother and all of them and they love each other the same way. It’s a formed bond that holds strong as a dam. It’s a bond earned by each student through honesty, love, sincerity and concern.
All of them have been brought up in Christian homes… everyone in this valley attends church on Sundays. Afterwards, they’ll enjoy a meal prepared by every family and the children play games and enjoy interpersonal relationships with each other. Parents enjoy communicating and enjoying their friendships, talking about their farms, crops, and other matters they’re concerned with. It’s an all-day affair with family and friends.
There’s no modern appliances, in-house plumbing, modern farming equipment, big stores, and any other luxury conveniences; but they do have love, respect and a desire to raise honest and decent well rounded children; and to bring them up in church, teaching them that God comes first in their lives. A span of years has passed since 1942 to 2015 but I remember those years well and miss them every day. Love was in that valley; friends were like family and families had strong values.
Barbara Kasey Smith is the writer of this short-story article.