Mama's Promise

Mama's Promise

Status: Finished

Genre: Young Adult

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Status: Finished

Genre: Young Adult

Houses:

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Summary

How far does a Mama's Promise go?
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Summary

How far does a Mama's Promise go?

Chapter1 (v.1) - Who I was

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 26, 2017

Reads: 62

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 26, 2017

A A A

A A A

 

**I was such a carefree little girl. My parents and I lived in the small town of Sinton, Alabama, in America, the so called Land of the Great. I didn’t realize just how false that statement was until later in life. I spent most of my days running around in my little sundress helping Mama cook and clean the little shack we lived in, and I was happy with it.

It wasn’t much work to clean and it never seemed to take very long. It was two little rooms with wooden walls and one tiny closet in the biggest room, but that was all we needed. The house was obviously not built by a professional, and it definitely needed a paint job, but I never noticed. There were a few mouse holes here and there, and the roof leaked whenever it rained, but we just ignored the problems and I fed the mice some crumbs. My daddy never approved of my feeding the hungry, but my mama would always give me the food she had left on her plate after meals. I recently found out my daddy knew all of this, but I thought it was the funniest thing sneaking around his rules. Every night when I thought he was asleep I would grab the leftovers, and sneak over to give my rodent friends their treats.

When the wind blows open the loose door the first thing that catches your eye is a table. It is made of some rotten wood that my daddy found in the alley, and he created a working dining room table with it. On top of that my mama put a vase that I made out of broken glass and dandelions could always be seen in it. I thought they were the prettiest flowers. I always knew I could trust those flowers because they were rarely wanted in communities and I thought that was just like me when I tried to places. I too knew what it felt like to not be wanted by others and seen as a weed. In the corner of that first room was an old rusty stove we got from some neighbors. I don’t understand how it worked so well but I knew we could trust it to cook our food every night.

In the second room there were two thin blankets that had moth holes and a lamp that we were given as a gift. The blankets were my grandma’s a long time ago. My mama said they would always keep me warm just as she would have if she had met me. The lamp sat in its own corner of the room, it didn’t work but it still brightened up our room and we thought it deserved a place of honor. Once a week I would ask my mama where we got it and she loved to tell the story every time.

-“When we first moved into this house I was pregnant with you. We were very, very poor and this nice lady in the house next door would often come to check on me while your daddy was in town. One day when the lady came to see how I was doing she found me lying on the floor. It appeared as if you were ready to see the world and no one was stopping you from coming. The lady told me she used to be a nurse until her husband decided she wasn’t allowed to work so she decided to help me through the whole thing. That night when your daddy came home from work imagine how shocked he was to see me holding you. The next day we received the lamp as a thank you for helping her enjoy the excitement in life.”

“But where is she now? I don’t think I have ever met her.”

“She died not too long after you were born. Her husband told us she had been sick a very long time and she died very peacefully. If she saw you now she would be proud of the young lady you are becoming.” I have to admit I didn’t ask every week just because my mama loved to tell the story, I loved hearing it.

Outside we were surrounded by the neighboring houses and the sounds of a busy city, of course when we had to actually get something from the city it was a two mile walk. Most of the houses were small like ours but many were well built. When travelling into town back roads were the only ones we could safely use and it was rare for someone to walk alone. I was only ever allowed to go into town the one day a week for Sunday service. Any other time was too much of a risk.

My mama had a little garden behind our house full of all sorts of flowers with different shapes, sizes, and colors along with tomatoes and strawberries. To this day I don’t know how she kept them all alive but she did. I remember warm summer evenings I would run around as she weeded the plants, some days I would watch hoping to learn how, it wasn’t until I had tried to help for a few years I actually understood what she was doing.

Beside them was a smaller wooden shack with a moon on the little door. In that we kept a young  cow. She was skinny and white with one brown spot covering her face. I loved to visit with her in the afternoon. She wasn’t much of a conversationalist but she sure was a good listener. She gave our family milk when we needed it and most importantly she gave me a friend.

All of our neighbors saw our house as a big pile of trash and the garden as a wild and untamed jungle, but I saw it as heaven. It was my home, where I was going to grow up, and where my family was. I never pictured life any differently. Some days I would hear some not so nice comments and when I was really little I would ask my daddy what they meant and if I should call our house what they called it. He just told me to ignore them and pretend I never heard what they were saying. It never even crossed my mind people didn’t like our house. To me it was a family and I wouldn’t want it any other way.


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