From the Relief Society Magazine, November 1964 –

Our Roots Go Deep

By Frances C. Yost

Marion Coombs kissed each loving child and waved them all off to school. Wally had left almost at daylight for the electric shop. He had a television set he had promised to get repaired and delivered by noon, and it was a cantankerous job, he said, which would probably take a lot of time.

Marion sat down by the window to watch the children out of sight as they skipped down the street toward school. She needed to give herself a much-needed moment of rest, too. As she glanced out of the window she saw her neighbor. Vera Holly, dressed most becomingly, get into a car at the curb and drive off with a strange man. Marion’s eyebrows raised slightly and she murmured, “Well, what do you know?”

Marion mastered her mind and brought it back to her own world and her own problems. Let’s see, none of the family will be home for lunch, so she wouldn’t have to bother about that. There were the makings of a nice stew in the frig for supper. The family liked stew, but she needed something to glorify it. How about a grapefruit and avocado salad? A strawberry baked Alaska pie for dessert would be just super. Marion could almost hear the family’s ”ah’s” of approval at the very sight of a dessert piping hot from the oven, and freezing cold from the frig. She would make two big pies while she was at it, and the family could have seconds all the way around.

Marion cleaned up the house in good time, and started making the crust for the pies. But her mind wandered back to Vera Holly. Where had she gone? Who was the fellow she had driven off with?

“Marion Coombs, will you curb your impulsive thoughts?” she chided.

Yet, thinking about the Holly family was part of her living. They had bought these houses side by side before either couple had any children. Marion remembered the day she and Wally had moved in. Vera and Jim had come over to help them with the heavy furniture. They had even set out the trees together. These dear old evergreens, quaking aspen, and silver maple trees now shaded their homes as if they had been planted by Father Adam . . . well almost.

As the children came along, they, too, had become fast friends. Many a ball game they had had across the street in the park together. Lately, since young John Holly and Wally J. were big enough, their fun had included bowling and overnight fishing excursions with their fathers.

Marion remembered the day the Holly house had caught on fire. There hadn’t been a great deal of damage, and yet the house was smoked up in every room, and Marion had invited the family to come over and sleep and eat at her home until they could renovate and repair the damage.

Marion remembered, too, one day when her own little Susie had come up missing. She and Vera trudged every street in the area on foot. How they could have used a car that day! They had finally found little Susie up on Elmer Drive in a swimming pool. It had been Vera Holly who had presence of mind enough to administer artificial respiration and mouth-to-mouth breathing. She owed a lot to Vera Holly.

Jim Holly hadn’t spent as much time with her and Wally lately as he used to. Well, he hadn’t spent as much time with the family either. He was so tied up in his real estate business, which was booming in all directions.

Poor, dear, faithful Wally was still plugging away in the electric repair shop on a hit-and-miss salary. But they managed and were happy, and that was what counted most. Yet it was hard to see one’s friends who had started out with nothing, just the same as yourselves, to watch them advance and be successful financially. But, Marion told herself, money wasn’t everything. She wondered again about Vera Holly, and where she was spending the day.

Marion found time to study her literature lesson for Relief Society, and to read the Doctrine and Covenants assignment for the theology lesson. She even pasted pictures in her Book of Remembrance before the children came home from school.

At last the clock’s hands moved themselves to four-thirty, and the children, one by one, shouted “Mother,” as they came in the front door. And in answer to each one she replied sweetly: “Right here, dear.”

It was nice having the children around her, Marion thought. She liked to hear how Wally J. was coming with his advanced math, even though she couldn’t help him anymore, because he had surpassed her in the field of arithmetic. She liked the recipes which Susie brought home from her home economics classes to try out on the family. She liked the seventh grade science lessons which Dale read aloud to her. Life was good, she had a good family, and she was happy.

She knew it was not wise to be concerned about her neighbors so much. She must be able to live her own life, mind her own business.

Just then Vera Holly turned in the driveway. She was at the wheel of a new royal blue station wagon. Marion could tell by the big smile on Vera’s face that it was her own car, and it was completely paid for. If Vera came over bragging about it, she would . . . she would. Marion didn’t know what she would do. Probably start crying with envy.

”Marion,” she said, ”get hold of yourself! Why the idea of being jealous because someone gets a new car. Shame! Shame! Shame!”

She knew if Vera Holly was in trouble, she would rush over and move heaven and earth to help her. But because she was successful, was getting a few of the nicer things of life, Marion was becoming jealous and wanted to weave a cocoon of protection around herself.

Marion looked at the two parfait pies. Vera had been gone all day. She probably was hurrying around to get supper ready for her family. She would no doubt welcome a prepared dessert. Marion ran the comb through her hair, wiped the jealous tears from her eyes, added a bit of lipstick, and slipped out of the door and walked over to the Holly residence. She rang the back doorbell.

“Oh, Marion, I’m so glad you came over.” Vera was busy preparing a quick spaghetti supper and a tossed salad.

“I thought you could use this strawberry baked Alaska pie for dessert.”

“Marion, you are a treasure. I’ve just never had such a dear friend as you are. I sure can use the pie. You see, I’ve been gone all day, and I’m tired. Marion, it’s a long story and I’ll have to start at the first. Sit down for a bit.

“Jim opened up that Windemere building area, and he said that if I wanted to, we could get one of those choice lots and build a new home. We looked at house plans, but you know, Marion, the new modern homes aren’t homey and cozy like yours and mine.

“Our whole family talked it over, and we took a secret ballot vote. Would you believe it, we all voted to stay right here. The children like their friends here, and their tree house. We planted these dear old trees, you folks and Jim and I, and well, you just can’t pull up roots like that. Our roots go deep, Marion.

“I told Jim what I wanted was a car of my own. So that when you and I wanted to go shopping, or take the children on picnics or for a swim we could go. Jim and Wally always have the family cars, and I thought how nice it would be if I could drive you to Relief Society when you have all those visual aids to carry. I thought about the time we hunted for little Susie when she was lost. If we had had a car that day we could have found her long before she fell in that mean old swimming pool up on Elmer Drive.

“Jim made arrangements for today. He had a salesman pick me up this morning, and take a trial run. Honestly, he left the final say right up to me. I chose one big enough for the neighborhood to go places. I hope you like it.” Vera smiled a longing sort of smile that asked for approval.

“It is lovely, Vera.”

“Thanks, Marion, for the delicious pie. You are always doing nice things for me. I’ll just never forget when you took us all in when I was careless and set the house on fire. And youVe helped me with sewing, and helped me with lessons I had to give, and just dozens of things. I wanted to have a car to share with you. If you ever need one, Marion, I want you to feel free to use it. You will, won’t you?”

Marion laughed happily, “That is almost being too generous, Vera. But I am truly happy for you. There’s nothing in the world like good friends and neighbors. My roots go deep, too. Vera.”

And Marion knew she really meant it.