Grandma’s Farm

Photo from Google

Far away from the concrete buildings and

Expansive structures of my everyday world

In Brooklyn, New York

We boarded the train, as we would every summer…..

all dressed up in our Sunday best, equipped

With books to keep us entertained.

Momma would always pack a lunch/dinner

Couldn’t buy anything on the train, 1950’s/1960s

……going to Grandma’s house – Due West, SC.

The train chugging along taking us further and

Further from the noise and clutter of the projects

Off to the land so green, so luscious, pregnant

With succulent fruits and vegetables

An almost deserted place

A house made of wood,

three stories high, elevated off the ground

Porch swing added character and a place to

sit and wile away the hours on rainy days

Pot belly stove, no running water

Only a well close by where the water was so pure

And cold……refreshing!

Acres of corn and peas, watermelons and peaches

Chickens clucking under the house – a time of

Freedom – a place of safety – the nearest neighbor

Maybe a mile away.

“There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow. The

Corn is as high as an elephant’s eye and it looks

Like it’s climbing way up to the sky…….Oh what a

Beautiful morning”

Early mornings brought the call of the rooster –

Time to start the day.  Basins filled with water in

which to wash – one for each of us.

Time to fish and play. We’d take the little red wagon

The same one we used to carry the wood for the stove

And start out on our journey down to the creek.

No need to dress up.

Only on Sundays when we’d travel miles to church

One room structure with those pretty hand fans –

Pretty little girls with ribbons in their hair, patent

Leather shoes shined to perfection.

White lace socks to match the lace gloves

Hands folded, sitting straight, attentive to the

message…..I only remember the songs

“How Great Thou Art”,

“It is well with my Soul”

Sunday dinner with family.

Remembering the feeling, remembering not worrying

Grandma’s house – no fighting, no violence, no sirens

Only freedom and the best tasting homemade biscuits with

homemade butter and homemade ice tea to wash them down –

best thing this side of heaven…..

A place far from Brooklyn, where you could think and you

could pray

It was hard to imagine that the same sun that

Shined in Brooklyn, shined there as well reflecting off the

red clay dirt.

Even the air was different, cleaner, welcoming, a place

where you could breathe

Suddenly it was August – time to go back

Thoughts moved towards school, towards friends,

Towards noise and clutter, towards restrictions

and rules……..train chugging along

Before you knew it, we were in Weehawken, New Jersey, next

stop….New York City – Home again!