I think the first time I saw a picture of a tepee, I wanted one for a play house. On our farm I looked at corn shocks, wheat shocks, or anything in the shape of a tepee, and I wished Dad would let me play inside one. But I didn’t think he’d say yes, so I didn’t ask. The blue bell bush was really a wisteria climbing a pole beside a shrub, but our whole family called it the bluebell bush. It made a sort of upside-down tepee, but I decided it made a good enough place to hide and sort things out. I’d scoot myself back into a little space and listen to my mom and sisters as they did the washing just outside the kitchen door and talked about grownup things. At other times I would retreat to my tepee on Saturday mornings when I didn’t get to go to Liberty with Dad. I thought for sure the world would end for me because it was my only chance to get an ice cream cone. Dad didn’t go to Liberty very often, so you can understand how unfair it was for me to be left behind. Then also some time after a school day, I would scoot back into my blue bell tepee when I was mad at the girl at school who broke my red crayon when she didn’t even ask me if she could use it; and she cheated at about every game we played; and she shoved other children to get in line first. When I got home from first grade, I had plenty good reason to go into hiding for awhile. I would think about how I didn’t like that girl and how nice it was going to be in heaven some day because I was pretty sure that girl wouldn’t get to go there. That thought made it a little easier even if the teacher never did catch her being bad.
Continue reading “Bluebell tepee, wash day, Mom, her mom, and my sisters”
Memories about my family