The Preacher's Kid

By Carolyn Griffin

The year is 1950. The story tells about the life of an eight year old girl who happens to be a preachers kid: the family and friends she has, the scrapes she get into, the experiences that help her grow, and the happy times she encounters over the process of a year.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 3, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453576809

Carolyn Griffin

Carolyn Griffin, a wife, mother, and grandmother is a writer who lives in Tucson, Arizona. She enjoys arts and crafts, crocheting, drawing and painting, church and family activities, and especially story telling. She has spent much of her life writing and sharing with children. A child’s soul can be touched by the words of a story, and that is the desire of her heart.

Book preview

The Preacher’s Kid

Carolyn Griffin

Copyright © 2010 by Carolyn Griffin.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4535-7679-3

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4535-7680-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted 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 copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

87201

Contents

Chapter 1

NEW FRIENDS

Chapter 2

BLACK FRECKLES

Chapter 3

BROWN EYES

Chapter 4

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Chapter 5

FIREWORKS

Chapter 6

STILT WALKING

Chapter 7

THE CLOTHING CHUTE

Chapter 8

DAD

Chapter 9

THE WEDDING

Chapter 10

SUNDAY

Chapter 11

WOLF WHISTLE

Chapter 12

THE RED-WHEELED BIKE

Chapter 13

CAMPING

Chapter 14

MOTHER DUCK

Chapter 15

MAMMOTH CAVE

Chapter 16

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

Chapter 17

THE HILL FAMILY

Chapter 18

ZERO BABY

Chapter 19

A MOUSE FUNERAL

Chapter 20

AUTUMN DAYS

Chapter 21

THE FALL PICNIC

Chapter 22

WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS

Chapter 23

THE COAL MONSTER

Chapter 24

A LESSON

Chapter 25

A SLIDE

Chapter 26

A BUMPY TOAD NAMED GEORGE

Chapter 27

AUNT EDNA

Chapter 28

WARTS

Chapter 29

WHITE GLOVES

Chapter 30

THE WITCH

Chapter 31

HALLOWEEN

Chapter 32

PIANO LESSONS

Chapter 33

THE BROKEN PIANO

Chapter 34

WINTER ICE

Chapter 35

ON THE ROAD

Chapter 36

THANKSGIVING

Chapter 37

MRS. SANDS

Chapter 38

SNOW FUN

Chapter 39

CHRISTMAS PREPARATION

Chapter 40

ALMOST HERE

Chapter 41

CHRISTMAS

Chapter 42

PRESENTS

Chapter 43

THE WEEK AFTER

Chapter 44

OPEN HOUSE

Chapter 45

THE LONG HARD WINTER

Chapter 46

JACK FROST

Chapter 47

AN ANSWERED PRAYER

Chapter 48

WAR ZONE

Chapter 49

SPRINGTIME

Chapter 50

EASTER

Chapter 51

LEMON MERINGUE PIE

Chapter 52

MAY

Chapter 53

THE ROBIN FAMILY

Chapter 54

MEMORIAL DAY

Chapter 55

THE GARDEN

Chapter 56

SUMMER

Chapter 57

A BIRTHDAY

This is an exciting portrayal of an 8 year old girl who happened to be the only preacher’s kid in school. She experienced one escapade after another in a small Midwestern town located in Wisconsin, from hand painting black freckles on her face to beating up the school bullies on Main Street. This story brings the reader to share in the ups and downs of a child learning more about life in 1950.

Chapter 1

NEW FRIENDS

Every morning that spring in the small town of Sun Prairie, Wisconsin, a little girl with long auburn pigtails could be found on the front porch swing, feet not quite reaching the floor. It was the porch of a large, two story parsonage that towered above most of the other houses in town. Occasionally pushing her hand against the bricks of the old house, she swung back and forth. Her sparkling blue eyes were filled with dreams that only she knew about. Her name was Jamie Brown.

She stared at the big white house across the street because she knew another little girl lived there. Sure enough, it was not long before a blond haired child bounced out the front door and plopped down on the cement railing of her porch. The two of them spent the rest of the morning watching each other.

One morning Jamie stamped both feet down on the porch floor. She thought, This’s dumb! Look at all the playtime we’re wasting! Then, after waving at the girl who waved back, she strolled across the street and up the porch steps. Seating herself on the rail, she grinned. Hi. I’m Jamie.

Hi yourself, Jamie, answered the girl, returning the grin. I’m Anne. She flipped golden curls over her shoulders and giggled. Wondered who’d give in first! Guess you just couldn’t take it!

The words weren’t kind, but laughing brown eyes told Jamie that she wanted to be friends. Grinning back, she said, I couldn’t stand to waste any more time!

Come on, Jamie. Anne jumped over the rail, gesturing toward the back yard. There’s a picnic table in the back yard that’d make a great playhouse, and lots of blankets to hang over the edge.

She ran around the house; Jamie followed. They worked quickly, fixing the grandest picnic-table-house-tent in town.

Jamie hurried across the street to dress and to coax her little brother to participate, while Anne went into her house to change. A half hour later Jamie, wearing Mom’s old large brimmed flowered hat, with a floppy black purse hanging from a shoulder, clattered along in a pair of high heels, way too big. She was decked out in a long, old-fashioned dress with bosoms stuffed, and had Noah in tow, and a baby doll cradled in her arms.

Little Noah, with dark curls and big brown eyes graced by beautiful long eyelashes, grudgingly wore a baby bonnet tied snugly under his chin. He sauntered along beside his big sister in a frilly little dress with ruffled petticoats.

Anne giggled as she watched them approach. She herself was dressed in her granny’s finest discarded dress, a fake rabbit stole, high heels (of course!) and a lady’s wide brimmed hat, much like Jamie’s. They amused themselves for many hours playing house. And when tired of that, they changed to ‘Hollywood’, using the picnic table for a stage.

Sometimes in Jamie’s backyard, the girls both used the wooden seated roped swing, the one Dad had hung in the gigantic oak tree. One stood and the other sat on the smooth firm board, holding tightly to the thick ropes. They pumped hard in order to fly over the garden.

Swinging was a favorite pastime for Jamie, especially when alone. She thought that a swing was an open invitation to any child. It seemed to call Jamie whenever she was near. Come on, Jamie. She could hear it in her mind. Come on, child. Climb on me, and I’ll take you places!

She sat on the seat and pumped high and higher in the air, turning her body one-way and then another, causing the swing to sway in a gigantic circle. She could fly! It was pure delight. The swing had told the truth. Often, Jamie travelled all over the world, visiting a child in China, another in Ireland, and one in Switzerland, and Africa. She had imaginary friends to visit in just about every country of the world, through the kindness of that swing attached to the old oak tree in her back yard.

The twenty seventh of June was her eighth birthday and Jamie was given a spanking new pair of roller skates, in honor of that special day. The big house sat on top of a long hill. Mom fastened the skates to her shoes and tied an old fluffy pillow on to her bottom. Then she gave her a little shove down the hill.

The girl flew like an eagle, her auburn braids following her like the tail feathers of a hawk. Upon reaching the bottom of the hill she landed—plop!—smack on her pillow! What fun! She tried it again, and before long had no need of a pillow.

Her friend Anne came over with her skates, and together they rolled down the hill with squeals of laughter and shouts of joy. Turning the corner, they skated around the large block, ending up at Jamie’s house from the other direction. What a wonderful time they had, that summer of long ago, for Anne and Jamie were new friends and enjoyed life the way new friends should.

Chapter 2

BLACK FRECKLES

It was the summer she was 8 that Jamie’s stubby nose sprouted a multitude of big brown freckles. Dad told her that the sun had kissed her face and left a crop of spots. It was then she stopped trying to scrub them away.

Every time Mom and Jamie set foot in Dickens Grocery Store the clerk would ask how many freckles she had. She’d shrug her shoulders and say, I don’t know.

The clerk would giggle. You know, you ought to keep track of such things, she’d tell her.

Although Jamie stood for a long time in front of the dresser mirror in her bedroom and counted freckles, it didn’t work out. She’d either recount some of them, or forget which ones she had counted already and which ones she had not.

One day, in Dad’s study, she found a black marker. Oh, she had a great idea! Borrowing the marker, the child ran to her bedroom. She knew exactly how to keep track of which freckles she had added and which ones needed to be counted!

The girl stood in front of the mirror, patiently marking each as she counted. When done, Jamie stared hard at the child in the mirror. She giggled; her face looked so funny! She had twenty-three black freckles. Now she could tell the clerk at Dickens Grocery Store how many there were, next time she saw her.

Jamie went to the bathroom to wash them off. Oh, oh—it didn’t work! She scrubbed and scrubbed, but all she accomplished was to succeed in making her face extremely pink, with black freckles.

Creeping downstairs, she was returning Dad’s marker when he walked into his study. What are you doing, Jamie? he asked.

I’m returning your marker, Daddy, She answered in a small voice. I needed to borrow it for something.

Dad stared at his daughter, his eyes starting to twinkle. He asked, What did you need it for, honey?

Jamie’s face turned red. I-I needed to count my freckles, Daddy. And I counted them. I’ve got 23. But now, I can’t get the marks off. What do I do?

She started to cry. Dad patted her shoulder. The marker you used has permanent ink in it. It doesn’t wash out, he said.

During most of the summer in the year of 1950, Jamie lived with black freckles, before they started to wear off.

Chapter 3

BROWN EYES

Jamie was jealous of her brother Noah, for he had big beautiful brown eyes and lovely curls. Adults introduced to the Brown family always appreciated Noah and made over him. It seemed to Jamie that no one admired blue eyes or valued braids.

When they went riding in the country, Dad pointed out the Swiss cow and explained that was the cow that made chocolate milk. So, the Swiss cow became Noah’s favorite. Then later, Jamie overheard Dad telling Mrs. Pinucle at church that Noah had acquired his big brown eyes from drinking so much chocolate milk.

Oh-h, so that was it! Her brother loved chocolate milk and drank it as much as he possibly could, every chance he had. Now she, on the other hand, hated it and never drank it at all. Noah’s eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that everyone liked so well, were that color because of the Swiss cow!

Her father gave Jamie twenty-five cents a week, if she did her chores and was good. The girl saved her allowance and when she had enough, headed downtown to Dicken’s Grocery Store to buy chocolate milk (ugh!). Before leaving the store, she’d hold her breath and gulp the whole quart down as quickly as possible. It stretched her tummy and tasted terrible, like taking medicine (ugh, again).

Then she would run home as fast as her legs would take her, dash up the stairs two at a time and standing before the mirror, anxiously stare at the breathless child pictured in the glass. She’d lean forward, gazing intently at the reflection, but her eyes never changed color. Shucks! Seems like I’m stuck with horrid blue eyes, never to see the world through dazzling brown! She’d sigh and figure that now she must save more allowance, and drink more yucky chocolate milk.

One day Mom walked in and saw Jamie studying herself in the mirror. She asked, What’s the matter?

The girl looked up at her, tears clouding her vision. Mommy, she cried, no matter how much of that horrid chocolate milk I drink, my eyes are still blue. They refuse to change to brown!

She felt very frustrated with the situation. What could she do? Mom walked over to the mirror and stared at her daughter’s blue eyes. They’re beautiful, Jamie, she stated. Your eyes are pretty, just the way they are. Daddy has blue eyes, and so do you. She smiled at the child, patting her shoulders. God gave you blue eyes, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.

Mom left, and Jamie thought deep thoughts.

Mommy likes my eyes, just the way they are! Wow! Maybe I better explain to Daddy, that he’s mistaken. Noah doesn’t have brown eyes from drinking chocolate milk! He’s got brown eyes ’cause that’s what God gave him . . .

Chapter 4

INDEPENDENCE DAY

The fourth of July was exciting. Dad explained it was the birthday of the country, and called Independence Day. Anne and Jamie were dressed up in their Sunday best. With Jamie’s father and little Noah, they watched the Independence Day parade downtown.

Floats, living pictures of actual things that happened in years gone by were created completely with flowers. Oh, they were beautiful. These flower pictures sat on hay wagons, pulled by two or four horses, and sometimes tractors. The children’s eyes were big with wonderment, as they watched the gorgeous floats ride past, down Main Street. So many flowers! Why, there must be hundred of blossoms in each one, and at least thirty different floats!

There were funny clowns that kept busy throwing candy and popcorn balls to people lining the street, and a very tall man who almost reached heaven. His slender, lanky legs were high as Dad was tall. Jamie gazed up at this amazing person with awe. When Dad explained that the remarkable man was walking on stilts, she wondered what stilts were.

There were red, white and blue decorated unicycles, some short as Noah, some high as Dad. Jamie shook her head. How in the world do these people keep their one-wheeled bikes up while they ride? It was simply incredible, that they could balance themselves expertly while revolving around in circles and figure eights.

The high school band played patriotic marches so enthusiastically that Anne, Noah, and Jamie had to stamp feet and clap hands in time with the music. Even Dad applauded. At the end of the parade there was a bright red fire engine with red, white and blue streamers popping firecrackers, and a loud wailing siren that was so noisy they all had to cover their ears.

After the parade they headed home to get the mothers, then to the city park for a picnic. Jamie was positive every single person in town was there. Each family brought dishes of food, placing them on the long tables. Soon, everyone helped themselves. She ate cold chicken, a hot dog, a hamburger, some potato salad, cold slaw, Boston bakes beans and homemade potato chips (that she, herself helped make!). She ate until she thought she would burst.

When finished they wandered toward the east end of the park where a podium had been built years ago. There they seated themselves in the grass; and the mayor, Mr. Simpson, stepped on to the platform.

Welcome, everyone! He bellowed over the loudspeaker in a boisterous, friendly voice. "Welcome to your Independence Celebration! We’re going to have sack