conversations by the firelight

part 2

It was another beautiful Autumn’s eve in the year 1875. I excitedly prepared dinner; venison steaks and sliced taters in the skillet and corn dodgers in the Dutch oven. I had a special guest tonight along with my friend from the year 2023. Leaves were escaping the trees in rays of golden sunlight dancing as they gracefully flutter like butterflies and gather on the ground, like folks at an outdoor tent revival a faithful flock surely to be shorn by the man with the gospel gun their sins to expound. Sunny days and cool crisp nights were so full of stars it created a traffic jam in the heavens, the angels having to play policeman supervising the cosmic highways.

At dusk my guests arrived seamlessly making the transition in time unaware of any change until they sat with me. With my friend was his ten year old daughter. Being prepared she knew what to expect as she shyly approached my outstretched hands. ‘Let me look at you little lady’ I said, as I smiled while staring into her eyes and holding her hands. Not flinching and holding my gaze she visibly relaxed. ‘Hummm’ I said ‘you are as pretty as advertised while retaining an innocence so rare at any age’. Looking up at her father I said ‘you’ve done well’.

‘Just call me Papa and I’ll call you little lady’. Her whole face smiled and her eyes seem to glitter. ‘Fixin’s is about ready and here I gots sumthin’ especial for you’ I said, as I handed her a bottle of sirsasparillie much to her delight. Mustin’ been the cool autumn night most certainly not my cookin’ cause everone ate with gusto and a ravenous appetite. Afterwards little lady helped me with the dishes cleaned with clear water and sand, not detergent or spic and span. I then instructed her about takin’ care of her personals just beyond the ambient light of the fire her father close by givin’ her privacy and providin’ a comfortin’ pretection.

Returnin’ little lady set the log by me enjoyin’ the warmth of the fire with a couple of pieces of wood added to it while she stroked Beggars head who had curled up next to her. ‘Daddy said I could ask you some questions if that would be ok’? ‘Chin away youngin’ I said. ‘Tell me about the people in your day, especially the girls’. ‘Well’ I said rubbin’ my chin ‘they led real lives not imaginary ones with woke Disney and Daffy, Miley, tv and movies. Not that they didn’t dream and fantasize, just like you, longing to wear a pretty dress with bows in their hair escorted by a handsome cowboy, the envy of all their friends. They were not raised by the tell-a-vision and toys, only simple ones like rag dolls and a pocket knife. Compared to your modern world with all it’s conveniences, the first thing folks refer to comparing the times, theirs was difficult and tuff. Seems folks prefer comfort and convenience over morality, justice, and truth. As their nation rots in its own filth they’re not likely to get off their couch until its to late, the hell fires of Lahaina whispering their fate. In my day you growed up fast, raised by no nonsense people who had no patience for whining and excuses. You did without what children today take for granted, not needin’ much for your happiness. Their lives required them to interact directly with people, no cell phones and social media, learnin’ how to get along’.

‘Early they learned to work and embrace their role in the family. They also learned skills and independence relying on their wits to make do. Long before the Marines they learned to improvise, adapt, and overcome. And they were strong, breathin’ pure air, eatin’ whole foods, and drinkin’ clear water without pesticides, poisons, and pollution. They understood plainly what was right from wrong, learnin’ their three ‘R’s’, writin’ cursive, and addin’ 2 plus 2 with a simple solution that still equaled four’.

‘Theirs was a world of wonder and inquiry often fraught with danger and threats on their life and their house and holdin’s. Their life span was shorter not extended by pills, drugs, surgery, assisted living, and institutional care, the years of your life lengthened, but not the quality of it. They learned to really live, often experiencing more in their youth than the old timers today in their entire lifetime’.

‘In short my dear not devaluing or diminishing at all runnin’ water and electric lights, cars and a boat load of conveniences yours is a shallow, material, ego driven, narcissistic world obsessed by pleasure seeking, luxury, and the delights of the flesh. It is a combination of extraordinary technological advances while the soul of humanity languishes with a cancer that will feed on its host till dead’.

‘Pretty’ yep the girls were natural and pretty not requirin’ layers of makeup or colored hair. Virtue and modesty still thrived. Of course everone was not this away, same as your world, but most was. Sum was educated and most all longed to be a wife and mother with chillin’s of their own, a fire that burned deep in their breast. The girls became Ladies, not the kind dressed in finery and livin’ in castles made of air, but ladies willing to dawn overalls and work aside their husbands lovin’ their families with a fierce determination and faith in the Good Lord. Theirs was the strength of character that side by side with their men carved out a destiny so you could live and hopefully remember that their lives were not lived in vain.

‘Ah forgive me little lady. I gets all pillosoftable and a bit windy’. ‘Oh No! she spoke with moist eyes. “I love it, especially coming from you Papa’. ‘Aw shucks’, I said, a little embarrassed and bowin’ my head. ‘I surely thank yee for sayin’ that’. I continued to spend the rest of the evening answering her questions lovin’ ever bit of it. When it came time to depart I gots a long lingerin’ hug with a kiss on my cheek. Lookin’ at her dad I said, ‘this has been very special for me. Thanx fer bringin’ your daughter and dedicatin’ this time to her. Yours will continue on our next visit’. Turning back to my little lady I spoke, ‘never forget your Papa in 75 and come back soon’. ‘Oh yes’! she said, ‘I’ll be comin’ round the mountain when I come. And then with a pouty face followed by a smile she said, ‘yer gunna miss me when I’m gone’.

‘As you go I’ll leave you with a story an old Cherokee Indian told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people’. He said, ‘the battle goes on between two wolves inside us all. One is evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego’.

‘The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith’.

The grandson thought for a moment and then asked his grandfather, ‘which wolf wins’? The old Cherokee simply replied…..

‘THE ONE YOU FEED’

‘I’m reluctant to say goodnight to such a lovely evening and goodbye to you dear reader. Thanx fer spendin’ this time with me. Now its a nip and time fer a dream trip. The journey still stretches out before us’.

‘Owlfeeterzane or however you say it’.

‘Nighty night’