Polly's Pearls

By Karen Gentry Marsh

A creative collection of heart touching Novellas and more. For decades stories have flowed from her lips and coursed out from the pen in her hand like a feather floating through the air. For as long as I can remember Pauline Gentry has always been a captivating story teller and the pages from this book are based upon a few of them. They are tales that will encourage you and warm your heart. You will feel the emotions of the characters and smell the air that surrounded them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781312284890

Book preview

Polly's Pearls

Title Page

Polly’s                                    Pearls

By

Karen Gentry Marsh

Preface

Polly’s Pearls

By

Karen Gentry Marsh

A creative collection of heart touching short stories

For decades stories have flowed from her lips and coursed out from the pen in her hand like a feather floating through the air.  For as long as I can remember Pauline Gentry has always been a captivating story teller and the pages from this book are based upon a few of them.  They are tales that will encourage you and warm your heart.  You will feel the emotions of the characters and smell the air that surrounded them.

Copyright

Karen Gentry Marsh

Polly’s Pearls

Copyright © by Karen Marsh

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

As with any work of fiction all the characters, incidents, and dialog in this work are products of the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to any event or any person, living or dead, is purely incidental.

To contact the author you may reach her through www.lulu.com.

Ebook created 2014

ISBN# 978-1-312-28489-0

Lulu TM

North Carolina

Printed in the USA

Dedication

Dedication

This book is dedicated to:

Jacob, Zachary, Gabriel, Mariah,

Connor, Caleb, Cameron, Camille

Alexandria, Gunner and Timothy

They are forever in my heart and on my mind. 

My quiver is full

Acknowledgements

Thanks, love and appreciation are given to my mother, Pauline; for all she has done for me over the years.  She has always shown herself to be a very loving, gentle, kind spirit and a wonderful example of motherhood.  May her attributes carry on through out the generations to come.

For as long as I can remember she would write in her tablets, being careful to preserve them.  I am thankful that they are now in my hands and I only want to give her the honor that is rightfully hers.  This book is based upon her writings, rewritten and edited.  I love you, Mom!

As with all my writings Polly’s Pearls is written in loving honor and memory of my mother, Pauline Polly Gentry.  She always had a song on her mind or one that she was singing.  Music has always been a large part of her life which flowed over into everyone that she came in contact with.  It was not unusual for her to be playing her guitar and singing with an audience of several children sitting on the floor in front of her, or she would have them enthralled by a story from her childhood or maybe one that just came to mind. When she wasn’t singing, she had paper in hand and a story flowing from the pen.  This is for you Mama.  I miss you terribly and will love you forever.

Thanks also go to my late Aunt Louise Harner for her contributions of wisdom and memories, my sister, Becky Williams, for her poetic additions, thanks to my son Dan for his beautiful Grandmother poem, appreciation to my niece, Rachael Williams for her creative ideas and many thanks to my sister, Nancy Boose, for her diligent editing.   I appreciate my husband, Lynn, for his returning love and friendship.  Thanks for sharing my life.

Table of Contents

Title

Preface

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgements

One

She Was Always There For Me

Two

The Adopted Son

Three

The Empty Church

Four

Moses

Five

The Methodist Dog

Six

Back in Ole’ Mississip

Seven

Lyndon’s Fire

Eight

The Carousel Turns

Nine

Grandmother

About the Author

Book Ad

Prelude

The young mother who was very heavy with child was on her hands and knees cleaning the hardwood floor in the master bedroom on the second story of the large home that they had recently purchased.  She had another month before the baby was due and she was thankful that there was still a little time left to prepare the nursery.  With the large family that she had to care for, it caused her to be too busy taking care of the necessary things to think about the new baby that was coming.  Her shoulder length, black as midnight hair was pulled back into a bun and her dark brown eyes snapped with life.  Her stature was petite and light while her husband stood more than a foot taller than she and about a hundred pounds heavier.   

Off of the Master bedroom was the nursery room that had a crib leaning up against the wall that needed to be put together.  A small chest of drawers that had been pushed into the room earlier still sat in the middle.  No curtains were on the one long window, but Pauline had decided that she would not put any up since the tall shade tree already blocked out the afternoon sun and the nursery was on the second floor of the large dwelling.  She thought possibly that a pair of wood shutters painted a light pastel color on the lower half of the opening would look nice.

Pauline, you really should take time to rest now.  Her mother-in-law called from the door.  These young en’s are about to wear me out.

I wish Forrest’s family would call me Polly as my family does, she thought to herself.  Pauline stopped and wiped the sweat from her brow with her shirt sleeve and looked across the floor.  She did not have far to go and the room would be completed.  Her stomach tightened and she felt the baby move inside of her.  It will only be a little while longer.  Can you just keep your eyes on the twins for a few more minutes, Grandma Nan?  Call for Nancy or Kenneth to help with them.  I’ll be through shortly. 

The elderly woman carefully went down the stairway to the twins who were playing fitfully.  Her aged back was bent from osteoporosis and she walked with a cane to maintain balance.  Lynda and Loren had just turned three.  Their light brown hair framed their little faces as bright eyes revealed the mischief that was inside them.  Lynda was talking quite freely while Loren was a little more subdued.  Outside playing on the porch were Kenneth and Keith because the weather had been very nasty that day. It had rained, hailed, sleeted and the sun even shown in between the changes.  Nancy was sitting at the dining room table reading a book that she had gotten recently.  She was the oldest child of the lot and carried a heavy load of responsibility for her ten years of age.  Her name had come from both of her grandmother’s first names.  She was an easily disciplined child and thrived in doing things to the best of her ability while her two younger brothers kept the household in an uproar from their boyish antics.

Pauline finally finished with scrubbing the wood floor and forced her petite, heavy laden body up.  When she did, her mid section tightened and a deep pain raged through her.  She placed her hands on her swelled belly as if trying to calm what she knew was the inevitable.  Glancing into the nursery in all of its disarray, she hoped the baby would wait for a few more weeks to be born.  She thought to herself, I must have Forrest get the cradle out of the attic and get that room ready tomorrow.  This baby is not going to wait until the due date.  Her mind went to the house that was already full of children and she said a prayer for the Lord to give her the wisdom that she needed.  Another pain seared through her body as she headed down the steps.  Stopping and leaning against the banister, the throbbing took her breath away.  Oh God, help me, she cried silently.  When she reached the kitchen, she told Grandma Nan that they would be having a baby by the morrow.

The next morning as she lay in the hospital bed with a tiny baby girl beside her, she wondered what to name this precious little one.  After much discussion, they finally agreed with Karen Ann.  Little did she know that five years later there would be another daughter joining their brood and that one would be named Rebecca Jane.

Pauline loved the early mornings; that was her favorite time of day.  She always took time to pray for her family and acknowledge the Lord in her life.  With seven children there were many things that occurred over the years that kept her on her knees.  It was not unusual for her children to awaken in the mornings to find their father off to work and their mother out working in her flowers or weeding the vegetable garden.  On a winter’s day they might open their eyes to her with a pen in her hand writing short stories and poems.  There was also a quilting frame that stored a piece of art that occupied her free time.  She raised her family with a switch in one hand and a book in the other. Discipline was something that she did not take lightly and her children found that their mother‘s love was unending. 

One

She Was Always There

For Me 

She Was Always There For Me 

Big Sunday dinners, Monday laundry, what a job

Tuesday she went shopping for food

Wednesday night we all went to church

Thursday laundry, ironing too

Friday happy kids came home from school

She was always there for me

Even though at times she could hardly be

Even when our words would disagree

She was always there for me

Cooking and cleaning, washing windows and doors

Waxing and polishing wood floors

Curing colds, healing wounds, binding girls broken hearts

Lord, keep your hands upon those boys

She was always there for me

Even though at times she could hardly be

Even when our words would disagree

She was always there for me

Her price is far above rubies

And in her tongue is the law of kindness

Her children are clothed with scarlet

Her husband did safely trust in her

She was always there for me

Even though at times she could hardly be

Even when our words would disagree

She was always there for me

Now I look back at the job that was done

And how she had such little time to rest

Hands always busy and prayers always heard

I will rise and call her blessed

She was always there for me

She was always there for me

By Rebecca Gentry Williams

Two

The Adopted Son

The Adopted Son

Rain drummed on the roof as the night enclosed the earth and all the residents were snug in their beds despite the noise of the storm outside.  Mary Curtis huddled under the covers while listening to the storm.  A flash of lightning pierced through the darkness, followed by a loud rumble of thunder which caused the cabin to vibrate and she pulled the blanket over her head.  Then without a second thought, she jumped out of bed and picked up her sleeping baby and laid him close to her in the large bed.  Where is your Pa, she whispered.  She hoped he was in a dry and warm place as she continued to snuggle under the covers and feel the baby squirm against her.  Sighing deeply, she sleeplessly rested in her warm and comfortable bed while her husband was out there somewhere.  After the worst of the storm had passed, she placed Danny back in his cradle as he quietly sucked his thumb contentedly, unshaken by the horrific weather.  All through the night, his mother was by the cradle at his first sound and rocked it gently as she hoped he would continue to rest.  Covering the little one carefully, she smiled as the flickering light from the fireplace revealed the sleeping infant.

Mary was a petite woman who had turned eighteen two weeks earlier.  She had long blond hair that she usually wore tied at the base of her neckline and delicate features adorned her face along with dimples that enunciated her smile.  Jesse had met her when he stopped in at the Mercantile that her parents owned in Mottsville which was in the Nebraska Territory.  He started a homestead close to his parents that was a half day’s ride from the small community and they were married six months later.

She looked out the window, but saw only flashes of lightening splitting the dense darkness that surrounded the wilderness country of early America.  She put a fresh log on the fire and returned to bed and slept fitfully as she dreamed of her husband out in the wild.  Sighing, she whispered I wish Jesse was here.  The sound of her own voice sounded strange to her and even the feline looked up with a questioning expression.  Satisfied with his surroundings, he curled back into a comfortable ball on the warm rug.  Mary rolled over and listened to the fury of the storm.  Finally exhaustion overtook her and she slept until the sunlight peeked through the window around the edges of the closed shutters.

Oh my, she exclaimed to herself as she jumped out of bed.  The baby was stirring in the cradle as she hurriedly built up the fire and filled a kettle of water along side a smaller pot for coffee that was hung by a bar over the growing flame.

She opened the door and was surprised to see snow falling fast as the air blew against her that made her skirt billow out.  Quickly closing the door she picked up little Danny, nursed him, and after he was settled back in his crib she returned to prepare breakfast in hopes that Jesse would soon be there.  The cabin was soon full of delicious odors of frying ham and eggs.  Biscuits that were made from sour dough that she had set aside the day before were baked to a golden brown.  As she set the table and was dishing up the food, the door opened to her husband stomping in with blusters of cold wind and snow following behind.

Jesse was a handsome man in his early twenties who was fairly tall with broad shoulders and long legs.  His dark hair that almost touched his shoulders appeared to be crying out for a good hair cut.

Just in time for breakfast, he exclaimed hungrily. 

Allowing the platter of biscuits to sit on the table, Mary ran and threw herself into his arms.  Honey, I was so worried!  Where were you?  What happened, she cried in one breath as Jesse scooped her up in his arms and covered her face with cold kisses without answering her.

It is so good to get home again.  The night caught me too far from here to make it back so I holed up in a deserted bear den, he said as he shook off the snow and hung his coat on a peg beside the door.

After he had carefully hung the gun on hooks from a beam on the ceiling, Mary had breakfast on the table waiting for him.  While they ate, Jesse told her details of his hunting venture.

I trailed that deer for miles before I finally got a shot at it, he spoke in between bites, but by the time I gutted it out, darkness was setting in early so I hunted a dry, warm place and slept like a baby.  Good ole’ Joe slept with me, he laughed as he looked down at the black lab that sat loyally by his side.  He kept me warm too, he went on to explain that he still needed to skin and hang his catch up in the smoke house.  

The dog’s tail thumped happily as he watched every bite that his master took, hoping for a morsel or two.  After breakfast Mary fed Ole’ Joe some breakfast scraps from the table, and then she gave him a well used ham bone to gnaw on.  Delighted with his treasure, Ole’ Joe took the bone to the door and sat until one of them let him outside.  Quickly he slipped underneath the porch to chew happily while the couple continued to talk of things that did not pertain to him.

After organizing the kitchen, Mary put on a pot of stew meat to cook over the fire.  The house stayed warm and aromatic from the warmth as the pot bubbled busily.  She gave the baby his morning bath and dressed him tenderly.  Then sitting in the rocking chair to nurse him, she sang as the chair rocked to the beat of her foot like music as the wood floor groaned in time.

After doing the chores, Jesse brought in a foaming bucket of milk and aet it on the table, Bossy is doing a real good job now that she is not ranging so far.  She seems contented to be close since it has gotten colder.  He glanced over his shoulder at his wife nursing the baby, And she seems to not miss her calf like she was.  I’m sure glad that we could get some money for the little guy.

Gently Mary put the baby down to play in his cradle and strained the milk with a clean soft white cloth that was used especially for that purpose.  With care she put the milk in the home made cabinet to sit until the cream rose to the top.  The milk that was already in the safe was ready to churn.  After adding the milk to the churn, he sat down to stir the white liquid.  The dasher went up and down steadily until golden blobs of butter began to show on the surface, and then when the butter was gathered in a mass, Mary lifted it out with a butter paddle and slipped it into a dish.  It was worked until the milk was all out of it and a little salt was added for seasoning to be worked in some more.  When