The first three years of my life were spent mostly in the company of my two older brothers. We had no close neighbors so I tried hard to please Sam and Roy in order to be allowed to play with them. Despite the fact of not having any toys, we still had many marvelous escapades. There were trees to climb, grapevines to swing on, tadpoles to catch, and bird nests to inspect.. You must hold your breath when peeking into the nest; otherwise the mother would quit the nest if you breathed on the eggs. Mama made us marbles of clay and baked them in the fireplace. My brothers taught me how to shoot marbles and and how to use a slingshot Mama had helped them make.

I would hear my brothers talk about school and I longed for the time when I would be old enough to start. Imagine my joy when they said I could visit school and spend the whole day! I was so thrilled, just thinking about going, I felt like I was floating on a cloud.

Mama scrubbed me from head to toe the night before and my Sunday dress was carefully ironed for the occasion. Mom, Sam, and Roy were busy giving me all the dos and donts for my behavior and in my three year old mind, I knew I wouldn't do anything that might prevent a future visit. Daddy was the only one who had enough faith in his little girl to not offer any advice.. All he said was, “My baby knows how to behave and I know she will do exactly as she should.”

The next morning we had one mile to walk to the bus stop. My legs were very tired when we got there. Soon the big yellow bus pulled up and we climbed on.

Mrs. Maude Weaver was the teacher ; she had the Primer class on one side of the room and the First grade on the other. I began the morning,sitting in a little chair next to brother Roy and later, would sit by brother Sammy. After the teacher got all the students busy with their work, she called me to her desk and placed me on her lap. She produced a comb and began combing my hair. Soon she had it hanging in “Shirley Temple curls” and placed a small mirror in my hands so I could admire her work.

Finally, a bell sounded and I was told this was recess; time to go outside and play. Students were allowed to get something from their lunches to eat if they wished. I looked around and saw beautiful tin lunch pails with pictures of Red Ryder and Little Beaver, and Gene Autry on others; some had nice brown paper bags. A few had the same as my brothers; a half-gallon ribbon cane syrup bucket with holes punched in the lid for air vents. My next glance was to behold the most wonderful things appearing . One girl produced an apple, a boy brought forth a golden banana, while a third child produced a sandwich made from real light bread.

At that moment, Sam, who was in charge of the syrup bucket, had produced my snack. He extended his hand to me and asked, “Sis, are you hungry?” I looked and behold; he was holding a piece of last night's leftover cornbread, filled with black-eyed peas. I will never know what flew through my mind but in a split second , I slapped it from his hand and exclaimed , “I don't want it.” Black-eyed peas rattled all over the floor and the cornbread did a fair job of scattering also. I knew, at this moment. I had fallen from grace!. I hung my head, my face burning with shame. I heard the teacher telling my brothers to get the broom and clean up the mess their little sister had made.

I've often wandered why I did that. Did I expect my wonderful brothers to perform a bit of magic and pull a glorious piece of fruit or a real piece of light bread from that lowly syrup bucket? To this day I don't know but I do know I would erase it if I could. I knew in one split second I had lost any chance of being allowed to return to that beautiful red brick building until my sixth birthday.

That afternoon I was in no hurry to get home. My brothers ended their story to Mama by indignantly saying, “And the teacher made us clean up the mess and it wasn't our fault.” Mama spanked me but that didn't hurt nearly as much as the sad look my daddy gave me from his blue eyes. He never said a word; he didn't have to. Later though, he held me on his lap with his arms around me and I knew Daddy had forgiven me. Not so with Sam and Roy; it took those two quite a spell before I was allowed back in the fold!