From the Relief Society Magazine, 1934 –
Be It Ever So Humble
by Ida R. Alldredge
Grandma Biby sat in her rocker by the window watching the girls and boys as they hurried home from school. Tiny snowflakes whirled through the air and fell lightly to the ground. the branches of the trees, already loaded from recent storms, groaned under their new weight.
Grandma smiled as the girls and boys, in their childish glee, threw snowballs at one another.
Her thoughts flew back to her own little John and Helen, and the first big snow man they made. It had stood on the back porch for almost a week. How their daddy laughed as he hurried in from his chores as they pelted him with tiny snowballs.
John was such a sturdy little fellow, with big black eyes always so full of mischief. How soon he had grown up and left the old home to seek his fortune in the city.
And Helen so frail and delicate. Grandma wiped away a tear with the corner of her apron as she thought of the little mound under the apple tree. She could see her golden curls and wistful blue eyes even now, as if it were but yesterday.
How lonely John was until a baby brother came to partially fill the vacancy. Bud, John had nicknamed him, and Bud he was still. He was always such a comfort, quiet and studious. He had made a record to be proud of. At times the sacrifice had seemed almost too much but, well, it was worth it, she thought, as she pictured him in his new career as a practicing physician.
It seemed so long since he had been home to visit them. He had come only once since he finished school. Now he had Dorothy and the twins.
Last but not least was little dimpled Susan. Her cheeks were as rosy as those of the girls and boys who had just passed by. Always cheerful and happy, she made friends of everybody.
Grandma almost envied Dick, the big handsome boy who had claimed her for his bride. Their baby! It had seemed so lonely at first after her departure for her new home.
Grandma took the letter from her pocket and read it again.
“Dear old Dad and Mumsy:
“Next Thursday is your wedding day. Dick and the babies are well and we are so happy. Wish we could drop in and see you. Must hurry but will write more next time.
“Goodbye. Susan.”
They had counted on Sue at least. But not even she was coming. Tears fell upon the open sheet of paper, but she hastily brushed them from her eyes as she heard the door open.
“Why in the dark, Mother? My, but that’s some storm! I’ve shut up the chickens and the cow in the barn. The horses are sheltered, too. I can’t stand to see anything out in the cold on a night like this,” said Grandpa, as he lit the lamp and set it in the middle of the table.
“Do you remember, Mother, fifty years ago tomorrow? It was just such a storm as this, but somehow I didn’t feel it as I do now. Wasn’t that a jolly sleigh ride up to the new home? I reckon we were as proud of it then as we are now, only it didn’t have the happy memories.”
“Somehow tonight I keep thinking of the boys and sue. I wish they could drop in and see us once in a while. but then they have their work to do and we mustn’t expect too much.”
“No, I suppose not, father, but I had so counted on Sue. It’s sort of lonesome, and tomorrow I’m afraid I won’t have much heart to prepare a weddin’ dinner for just two.”
“There, now, Mother, never you mind,” he said as he reached for her toil worn hands and held them in his own thin knotted ones.
“We’ve got each other and that’s a lot, for most folks don’t travel the road together as long as we’ve done. Sort of out of fashion now days, too, I reckon, but I wouldn’t be tradin’ for any of their new fangled ideas. Why, you were the finest looking girl in the whole country side.”
“Do you recollect how Sam Carter used to shine up to you, and how mad he was when I cut him out? I was mighty proud of you then and I still am.”
Grandpa chuckled as he squeezed her hand. “Them were great old days, weren’t they, Mother?”
“Yes, and I was just as proud of you, too, Jim, you with your long black beard and curly hair. Sally Perkins would have had you without even the askin’,” and Mother smiled up into his face.
“Wal, I reckon we were meant for each other, you and I, Molly, and I guess now that we’ve traveled together this long there ain’t no use turning back.”
“Don’t you reckon it’s about bed time?” Grandpa Biby yawned sleepily as he rose to his feet. “I’ll be sort of glad when it gets warmer so my rhumatiz won’t bother me so much.”
Early the next morning Grandpa hobbled out to the barn to milk the cow and take care of the old gray mares. He patted Dolly and Bet lovingly.
“You’ve seen your best days, both of you, but I ain’t for turnin’ you out now you’re gettin’ old,” he said as he stroked their long shaggy manes.
“I’m not much use myself anymore, and sometimes I wonder if John and Bud and Sue ain’t sort of ashamed of me and maybe that’s why they don’t come to see Mother and me.”
He was startled from his reverie by a voice at his elbow, “Pardon me, but is this the home of John Biby?”
Grandpa started and turning around, peered questioningly into the stranger’s face.
“I reckon it is, and who might you be … Well, I’ll be durned if it ain’t Sam Carter himself! Molly and me were just wonderin’ about you last night. Where have you been these last forty years? You’ve just come in time to celebrate our golden weddin’. We were just saying how it ‘ud be kinda lonesome-like for just us two.”
“Molly, I’ll bet you can’t guess who’s here,” called Grandpa as he pushed the door open and ushered in his visitor.
“I don’t know as I can,” said Grandma, wiping her glasses on her kitchen apron.
“Well, Molly, if ye talk about the devil he’s sure to appear,” chuckled Grandpa. “It’s Sam Carter. did ye ever hear of the like? And just in time for our weddin’ dinner, too.”
“Sit down, Sam, and tell me and Jim where you’ve been all these years.”
“You know I joined the army and served during the war, didn’t you? Well, when peace was declared, I stayed over in the Orient nigh onto five years. Then I sort of got restless so I came back to California and settled down, and made quite a little sum of money. Then I decided to do a bit more wandering, but somehow I kept hankering for my old home town, so I just drifted back, and here I am.”
“And so you’ve come to stay? Where’s your family? You ain’t said nothin’ about them,” said Grandma.
“Well, you see, I never married and I suppose I’m too old now. So I’ll just go on living in single blessedness. There was only one girl that I really hankered for anyhow. And Jim here got her.”
“You asked if I was going to stay? Well, that depends. I’d like to buy a little farm if I could find one to suit. This looks mighty good to me. Are you wanting to sell?”
“How about it, Mother? You know John wanted us to come and live with him, being as he never settled down, same as you, Sam. Somehow we couldn’t make up our minds to give up the old home, but maybe if you offered us a right smart price we might think about it.”
“Mother and me was just sayin’ as how it’s rather lonesome now we’re all alone and gettin’; along in years. The children are all so far away.”
“We thought maybe some of them might come to celebrate, bein’ as we invited them. But I reckon they’re too busy.”
Mother took down the best china, her one linen cloth, which she used only for company, and set the table for three. “I think I’ll just set an extra place or two in case a neighbor drops in. Anyhow, it’ll look more like a celebration.”
They seated themselves at the table just as three figures filled the doorway.
“Hello! just in time,” called a man’s voice.
Grandma almost dropped the platter and stared as if she had seen a ghost.
“And by jove! If our places aren’t already set. We counted on making it just in time for dinner,” exclaimed another.
“Dear old Dad and Mumsy, we meant to really and truly surprise you. How did you guess we were coming?”
Before they could reply they were enveloped in three pairs of arms.
“Wal, if this don’t beat everything. First comes Sam and then all three of you young upstarts. And I’ll be dadblamed if there ain’t Dick and Dorothy and the youngsters! Just when we thought we were going to be all alone, too. Can you beat it, Molly?”
“It’s lucky we killed the turkey after all, isn’t it, Father?” said Grandma.
That evening as they sat around the fire, the twins perched upon Grandpa’s knees, while Grandma cuddled baby Sue in her arms, John broached the subject they had discussed on their way home.
“You see, Father and Mother, we decided to come together and give you a surprise and then to carry you off with us. You’re too old to stay here alone any longer. besides, there is too much to do on a farm, even a small one. What you need is rest after your many years of toil. so we’ll pack up your things and you must come with us. I want you to live with me. Perhaps you can sell the farm.”
“I just offered to buy the place and I’ll pay a good price. I’m tired of wandering around.”
They all turned around and looked at Sam Carter as he spoke.
“Just the thing,” said Bud. “And then you can divide your time between us. You have done more for me than I can ever repay. and anyway, we need you, don’t we, Dorothy?”
Dorothy nodded in approval.
“And then, dad, you and Mumsy can travel a little too and see some of the things you used to talk about when we were kiddies. We’ll have you ready in just a jiffy.”
Grandpa hesitated and then turned to Mother. “What do you say, Molly?”
“It’s mighty nice of the children to want us, Jim. If you want to, maybe we’d better,” faltered Mother. “But somehow I love the old home so.”
Mother leaned against the window and peered into the twilight. Father understood, and a lump rose in his throat. How could they leave when little Helen was out there? He was so glad Mother wanted to stay.
“Not me, Mother. I sort of thought maybe you might like the city after all and I didn’t want to stand in the way of you’re bein’ happier.”
“I guess we won’t go, John, Mother and me. But it does us a lot of good to know you want us. We sort of thought you didn’t need us any more. But you see, we’re used to it here. We’ve traveled the road together fifty years and had our own way and I reckon we’d better stay right here.”