I did not know Dorothy. I can only imagine her long life in that little white house. I imagine the day her husband crafted that little house. I bet he picked that spot just for her some 75 years ago so that she could look at all the cattle in the field as she washed her dishes.
I imagine the baby that was born in the bedroom with the little window. The window open, the curtain whipping in the gentle breeze with the tiny baby wailing. Her eyes meeting his as they both embraced — there where the new chapter came in the heat of the Tennessee afternoon. Wrapped child in arm in the blanket her mother knitted. I know she would rock the baby just in that swing on the porch as she would sing a soft lullaby.
I imagine the two little ones in the pram that she would stroll down the lane on hot summer mornings to lull them to a quiet slumber. Nestled around the quilt her grandmother sewed for her for a house warming gift some years ago by that time.
Cold winters huddled by the warmth of the wood stove, watching her faithful husband lovingly load with the wood that he harvested on their own land. The soft sound of crackle and the faint smell of smoke that would fill the air was her world.
As the little family lived by and by and through the tough years of the Depression, they held fast to their dreams and stood their ground, as I imagine in those times, they feared to lose everything they had. The land was theirs, but could be taken for payment in times like those. Or traded for food. Yet I imagine the family just had to do without in those times. They pinched their pennies so they could keep the farm.
Miss Dorothy must have seen it all. She lived through times we only see in the movies. She may have buried a child far before his or her time, she had the whole in her heart, the pain of loss, but as all good women did in those days, she would move on, and she lived still. Her and her beloved must have sat many nights on that front porch talking about the years that went by. She had disappointments like the rest of us, maybe times where their marriage suffered and years of silence for lack of words when times were hard.
I know she was a widow. He is long since gone, of course. He is probably buried over yonder on their property behind an old oak tree I imagine. She had to brave the land alone even in her later years. She learned how to swing that old heavy ax and cut and stack her own firewood after her husband was gone. I saw her do it! Even at 90 some years old. I did not see many visitors there. Her kids probably were busy with their own lives and forgot about the good old days on the farm. Not sure why they were not drawn back. She seemed alone but busy with keeping her home clean, tidy, and warm with fire.
I never looked in her eyes. But I imagine if I did, they would be deep. The wrinkles would have been proof of the years of pain, joy, grief, hard work, and true perseverence. I imagine she had a deep faith in Christ. I bet the Lord got her through all the peaks and valleys of her long life.
She was a Proverbs 31 woman. That is all I know. Because only a woman like her would have stayed the course, not given up. Only a woman like her would still be out in the flower garden picking flowers to grace her table when all the others were gone, and the kind that would sit and knit on that porch after applying another coat of fresh white paint, looking over the beautiful field that never changed.
I will never know what it is like to grow roots on one piece of land, as we have moved and shifted over the years. I had to realize that my home was in heaven and that where ever my family is that is where I call home, no matter where we are at the time. They are my safe haven.
I want to be like this woman that I never knew. I want to stay the course, and be a keeper of my homestead, find joy right where I am planted in all the seasons of life. I want to sit on my porch and see the ever changing skies and know that I am right where I need to be. I don't want to grow weary in well doing. Dorothy sure did not and she died doing what she loved best—being a keeper of the home!
"And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."
Announcing something NEW....
Come LIKE my Facebook page, you can find it even if you are not a Facebooker!
If you are on Facebook, I invite you to be my personal friend. I have a Facebook personal account as well and would love to get to know more and more of you more personally. After blogging so many years, I just love to take the time to be old fashioned and be a real friend to you. I post every day on my Facebook page on things we are doing in our family. So come be my friend. Here is a link to my Facebook personal account...