Posted on 05/24/2005 8:59:00 AM PDT by redrock
When I was a child (growing up in Southern California)...there lived an old lady down the street...just like in every neighborhood in the country.
Just like in every neighborhood....her house was a little ratty looking. Overgrown with weeds...grass...bushes...and in need of a painting.
Just like in every neighborhood.....us kids were convinced that it was because she was a witch (or something like it)......none of us wise enough (or smart enough) to realize it was because she was a little old lady...and lived alone...that the house looked like that.
One day ,as kids (especially dumb ones) will do, we called her names as we passed by her house. The whole group of us. You could see the hurt (it was evident to even us) in her eyes.
Well....another neighbor called my dad about what had happened. When I got home....my dad was waiting. After having a rather frank discussion about what we kids did....he told me we were going on a visit.
A visit to the little old lady.
The closer we got to her house...the more afraid I got. After all....we were going into the house of a witch...or something like that. All the rumours of what happened to little children....all the things that could happen...especially by witches (or something like that) ran thru my head.
Well...we got there.....and (to my shock and amazement)...my dad and the little old lady KNEW each other...called each other by their first names...and...acted like they LIKED each other!!!!
Well....we had us a little 'get-together' around her kitchen table. She sounded nice....she sounded like she was 'normal'. We all agreed to get along....that I would help the other kids know that she was OK. She served lemonade and chocolate chip cookies...she said it would 'seal the deal'.
...and my dad offered my services to clean up her yard. I could look forward to days and days (turned out to be years and years) of pulling weeds...and mowing....and painting.
Well...the next weekend...I was there on Saturday morning (bright and early) weeding and mowing and cleaning up her yard. Around noon she came out with lemonade...and chocolate chip cookies (fresh baked).
...and the following Monday...on our way to school...there she was....as our little group of kids passed by her house...with a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies. (naturally....all of us ate the cookies...it's what kids do)
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For the next 10 years.....every morning on our way to school.....all of us were treated to a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies.
....and gradually....all of us worked on her house. Cleaning...mowing....weeding.
When I was 16....I had a paper to do about someone interesting in our neighborhood. Well...I could think of no one 'more interesting' than the little old lady. I had some questions to ask......
So....I went to her and told her of my paper ( I had asked my dad if he thought it would be a good idea. He just got this funny grin on his face...and nodded yes).
When I asked her if I could write about her...she just got this look on her face ( one that I would later call my 'old veteran stare)...and slowly said yes.
*********************************************************
She told me of her being born in the mid-west. In a place so flat....it seemed as if you could see the end of the world. As she grew up...of her wanting to visit those places she read about. Of her wanting to see the world.
After she graduated from Nursing School....she enlisted in the Military. After spending time in Hawaii (.."What a wonderful place...learned to like pineapple there")...she was sent to the Phillipines.
Just in time for World War II.
She told me of her time on Bataan....working on the wounded soldiers...and never (never) getting enough sleep. Of never having enough supplies.
Then most of the Medical people were transferred to Corregidor. Of more and more wounded...making the whole tunnel network into one giant (wandering) Hospital. Of how food became less and less available....but they still kept working. Never having enough medical supplies....or rest.
Then....the surrender. Of being taken to a prison camp (where the Japanese viewed prisoners as something dishonourable)...of basically being dumped in an enclosed area...and told to make do.
Of how she and the others survived...eating worms with their oatmeal (.."extra protien...you just closed your eyes when eating...")...and then "The Day" happened.
American soldiers at the gates....telling them that it would be ok...they were going home. Of how she was so hungry...(she said that she weighed only 84 pounds when she was rescued)...that she just kept asking every soldier she saw if they had any extra food.
...and about the 5th soldier she saw...said yes....and handed her a chocolate chip cookie. (he had just gotten a 'care-package' from home) She said it was stale....but that 4 inch cookie tasted like a little bit of heaven.
Well....she eventually got home. Tried to settle into a 'normal life'. (Tried to gain some weight). Met a returning G.I. after the war was over....got married....had a daughter. Eventually moved to Southern California. Ended up in my neighborhood...(or maybe it was the other way around)....and ended up a widow with a ratty looking house...and some idiot children calling her names...and thinking the worse of her.
******************************************************
As the interview ended...she got that '1,000 yard stare'..(the kind that old veterans get)...and said...."You know...the reason I always feed you kids chocolate chip cookies was because of that one I got from that soldier. It just felt right to pass it on."
So...if in your neighborhood...there is some little old lady living in some ratty looking house...(and the kids are all thinking bad things about her)....and as you walk by....she is offering you a fresh baked batch of chocolate chip cookies....take one.
For you just might be getting a chocolate chip cookie......from an American Hero......
redrock
free dixie,sw
5.56mm
redrock
...and it's GOOD for ya.
redrock
Glad I couldn't pass up THIS Chocolate Chip Cookie!
redrock
redrock
redrock
Good story. 'Preciate it.
redrock
Chocolate Chip........
redrock
"Just like in every neighborhood.....us kids were convinced that it was because she was a witch (or something like it)......none of us wise enough (or smart enough) to realize it was because she was a little old lady...and lived alone...that the house looked like that.
One day ,as kids (especially dumb ones) will do, we called her names as we passed by her house. The whole group of us. You could see the hurt (it was evident to even us) in her eyes.
Well....another neighbor called my dad about what had happened. When I got home....my dad was waiting. After having a rather frank discussion about what we kids did....he told me we were going on a visit.
A visit to the little old lady.
The closer we got to her house...the more afraid I got. After all....we were going into the house of a witch...or something like that. All the rumours of what happened to little children....all the things that could happen...especially by witches (or something like that) ran thru my head.
Well...we got there.....and (to my shock and amazement)...my dad and the little old lady KNEW each other...called each other by their first names...and...acted like they LIKED each other!!!!
Well....we had us a little 'get-together' around her kitchen table. She sounded nice....she sounded like she was 'normal'. We all agreed to get along....that I would help the other kids know that she was OK. She served lemonade and chocolate chip cookies...she said it would 'seal the deal'.
...and my dad offered my services to clean up her yard. I could look forward to days and days (turned out to be years and years) of pulling weeds...and mowing....and painting.
Well...the next weekend...I was there on Saturday morning (bright and early) weeding and mowing and cleaning up her yard. Around noon she came out with lemonade...and chocolate chip cookies (fresh baked).
...and the following Monday...on our way to school...there she was....as our little group of kids passed by her house...with a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies. (naturally....all of us ate the cookies...it's what kids do)
I was still learning Russian, knew little Ukrainian. A neighbor lady spoke German, and since I had lived six years in Germany, I was comfortable in that language and relied on her a lot.
She was a retired actress, living in a two-room flat on Solomnyansk street. Her pension was offset by and a stipend from a foreign film she played in, so she always had champagne and interesting stories whenever I came over for my Russian lessons. And neat pastries called 'zharonki' or something like that, with notes inside like fortune cookies.
One story she had was great: a neighbor woman once called her a witch, so the old woman decided to played a prank on her. She walked past the neighbor, entered the apartment building, went up to her fourth-floor apartment, and from the other side of the building jumped from balcony to balcony to the ground. Then she walked past the neighbor, went upstairs, and did it again. The third time she walked past, the neighbor jumped up and ran off, crossing herself frantically. And the old woman did these acrobatics at 80 years of age!
She had a bad habit of crossing the street above ground, refusing the underground crosswalks. I figured she'd been mugged down there, or didn't like the smell of wino urine. From her obituary, however, I found out that she'd been a prisoner in Siberia, working the mines... and that she couldn't bear to be underground after that. I also found out that before the revolution she had been a duchess.
Wish that I'd spent more time listening to her, and less in the bars.
Tissue Alert, indeed. I love it. Thank you.
redrock
redrock
How come my screen is getting all blurry...
redrock
Memorial Day Cookies from redrock ~ Bump!
Lest We Forget!
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