Some of my earliest recollections as a young child were wondering what there was to eat and if there would be enough to go around. We lived in the Sabine River Bottom in a two-room shack; Mama, Daddy, and four children. The entire country was in the grips of the Great Depression but I do believe it squeezed my family a little harder than most. Daddy walked ten miles each day to work for fifty cents. My mother had an old mule and a turning plow. She tried to grow corn, peas, and potatoes but when it failed to rain for such a long time, the seeds would not sprout. She, at times, wondered whether to boil the seed for food or risk planting it and experience failure.

For a while the surrounding woods had plenty of deer, squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, opossums, and armadillos. Mama was an excellent shot and shells were precious so she made each shot count. In the spring Mama would gather poke greens which grew wild and provided a good source of vitamins. Mayhaws, dewberries, blackberries, and huckleberries were picked and added some variety to our diet. Later, there were muscadine grapes and possum grapes . In the fall, we would gather hickory nuts, black walnuts, and chinquapins.

Many mornings would find Mama standing on the porch with the gun, watching several squirrels in a large hickory tree on the stomp. She would decided how many she needed to fry for our breakfast , get a bead on a couple, and pull the trigger. It was not unusual at all for her to bring down two with one shot. She never killed more than what was needed at that time. I can still taste her brown gravy, squirrel, and biscuits.

The time came when all the game seemed to disappear. Mama said it was due to the severe drought. The meals became more skimpy each day and it was reflected in our faces and our eyes. Finally, one morning , there was nothing to cook.; not a scrap of food to be had. I remember the gnawing, aching feeling in my stomach. I asked Mama what we would eat for breakfast. She had tears in her eyes and she told me that God would provide something. I looked around and certainly didn't see anything to eat. She knelt by a chair and began to pray, telling God her children were hungry.

At this time, my brothers were standing on the porch and all of a sudden, they both began hollering for Mama to come and look. “Hurry, they yelled. It looks like a great big turtle and he is crawling this way.” Sure enough, there he came, taking his time and seemed to know his mission. On he came, straight for our front gate.! Mama did not seem surprised in the least! She said she had never dressed a turtle but she was about to learn. He turned out to be a soft-shelled turtle and according to Daddy's cotton scales, weighed around 56 pounds. Mama took the ax to him to save a bullet and soon had him dressed out. Turtle for breakfast, plenty to go around , and lots left for several more meals. It was delicious , tasted sort of like chicken.

We later learned how the turtle came to be there. An old fellow had set some trot lines in the river below our field. He had a huge turtle and three large Buffalo fish on the back of his old jalopy. Apparently, he hit one of the many deep holes in the road and off came his turtle. Now, why didn't Mr. Turtle head back to his home in the river? Did he think our place was a short cut? To this day some of us do believe it was divine intervention!