Excerpt
Chapter 1:
While still living in Chatham, my sister, who is not a large or powerful person, but is possessed with a lot of willpower and energy, established herself as a girl to be treated with respect. My older half-brother, Wally, was easy-going, as well as a gentle person by nature. Sometimes, kids being kids, he would get picked on by older kids since he usually didnt fight back to defend himself. One time, on the way home from school, a bigger boy had him on the ground and was hitting him. My sister happened by and shouted, Leave my brother alone, and get off him. This threat was met by disdain by the bully, who certainly was not afraid of a skinny little girl! My sister was not easily ignored, and so in a fit of real spitfire anger, picked up a nearby brick lying on the ground and hit the bully in the head, knocking him unconscious! (His wound later required eight stitches). After that, no one messed around with my sister OR my half-brother at that school. Her reputation was such that the kids would clear her a pathway as she walked through their midst on the playground, or so I was told.
Chapter 2:
Another invention by some anonymous genius of earlier times was a clothespin gun. A spring loaded clothespin was taken apart and a notch was carved in the inside of the spring coil groove on the front edge. By reversing the spring to the outside of the wooden piece and then tying and gluing the two wooden pieces together in a V shape, the spring could be cocked and loaded and would shoot a piece of hard popcorn kernel 15-20 feet. Someone deviously figured out that a kitchen match (which would strike on any surface) instead of a popcorn kernel, would enable the shooter to shoot a lighted match! I take credit for figuring out that if a small flat piece of wood were inserted between the two halves of the clothespin, and by using two springs, one on each side, a two-shot gun would result! I never patented my great inspiration however, but shared it with the neighborhood boys for free.
Chapter 4:
On one occasion while in Seminary, I was working as a stock boy in a local Kresge (later K-Mart) store. I was putting some items on a shelf near the front of the store when a very disreputable-looking woman came in to shop, with a small boy alongside her. She looked like she had just come from a bar, with frizzy hair, too much makeup, and wearing very provocative clothing that was far too snug to be appropriate. About this time, the little boy spotted me and must have mistaken me for another man in her life, and began running excitedly toward me, and crying out, Daddy, Daddy, its me! This was a time when I would have been grateful for an earthquake to open up and swallow us all, since I had never seen either the woman or the little boy in my entire life. He was thoroughly convinced that I was his long-lost father and clung desperately to my pant-leg while I tried to gently push him away without hurting him. The mother rescued me with an embarrassed smile and said, Tommy, thats not your daddy, leave the young man alone. I thanked her for correcting the boys misconception and returned to my work once more. I tried to ignore the boy, but he kept hollering as they walked down the store aisle, Bye, daddy, I love you over and over. Finally the boy and his mother were gone, to my great relief. When I told my wife, Florence, about it, she thought it was the funniest thing she had heard in a long time! I was not that much amused. Luckily, no one from the Seminary had been around to witness this event.
Chapter 7:
While I was at the Rochester, Illinois church, a nice family joined the congregation. They had a very nice mother and seven children, ranging from about ten years old to the teen years. The only difficult problem in the family was an abusive father, usually after too many drinks on a weekend. He rarely attended church and I recall meeting him only once or twice. He drank up much of the familys money and they were struggling to make ends meet with such a large family. As a result, our church family got together a food drive for Christmas and filled a large pick-up truck with food and presents, complete with a huge Christmas tree, ornaments and lights as well. Unknown to us, about this time, the father came home drunk one night and began physically abusing the mother. The older boys had become fairly large by now, almost as big as the father, and they decided this was the last straw. They all got into a big fistfight, with the father being beaten up pretty thoroughly and thrown out of the house bodily. This was good for the family, but the father now refused any support money until a divorce was final, which would take a few months at least. The older boys had jobs, but there was not much food in the house to last until the court orders took effect.
As the truck from the church pulled up at the farm house, all the children streamed out the door, happily scrambling all over the truck and oohing and aahing over the large tree and the presents. The mother came out of the house last and was absolutely speechless as this unexpected good fortune. She stood there with big tears streaming down her face, and a smile from ear to ear! I can still picture in my mind the happiness our church generosity created. This event amply demonstrated to my wife and I that ours was the greatest occupation in the world. The church people talked about this wonderful event for many years in the future!
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