A Goodly Heritage

This post has been in the works of my mind for months now. I don’t even really planning on touching on much of it today.

With doing genealogy research lately, looking at many-a census record, many-a draft card, and many-a death certificate, I was struck with the realization of what a heritage I have. Not because of some great accomplishments my ancestors did, but more because of who they were, more specifically what the overwhelming majority of the women in my lineage were.

Census, after census, after census showed many a wife’s occupation in my family tree. That of:

Housewife

In a society full of people that disdain women who choose the true calling of housewife over the choice of a career, I am proud to walk right along in the steps of the women ancestors I have. It’s all I ever really wanted. I went to college, I have a degree, but I went to college knowing that was God’s will for me. Not looking for God’s will. I knew it already. Study teaching to be qualified to teach my own children when I stay at home as a housewife. Career was never at the top of my priority list.

And I think I obtained that mentality in part because my close family represented the role and calling of housewife so well. They never made it seem like a less worthy thing that they stayed at home. They made it look enjoyable.And I wanted the very same thing.

The other factoring part in my ideals is study of the Scriptures, I believe biblically a women’s place is at home. To keep from preaching, I’ll leave it at that. Do the searching yourself, dig, I promise it’s in the Word of God.

But back to my subject…

Heritage

I heard a song a long time ago called: I Have a Goodly Heritage.

And part of it goes like this:

“I have a goodly heritage,

I’m blessed with things you can’t see,

I have a goodly heritage,

And that is worth far more to me.”

I am so thankful for the heritage God has given to me,

it truly is one of those things that is priceless.

I’ll try to post on this topic again soon,but I want to turn the second half of this post to one specific person in my heritage that has greatly influenced who I am today.

You may guess my Mom, and you’d certainly be right ,because she has influenced my life the most. But today I want to focus on the person who has influenced me the second most.

Our pastor’s wife asked me the other day where I get my crafty-ness from. If my mom was crafty. I told her that she was, but didn’t have a ton of time growing up to do “crafty” things, she had four kids to raise, and a home to take care of, and a man to love. I told her I learned probably most of what I do from my Grandma.

Like my sister posted earlier this week,  my Grandma’s birthday was this week, and as I thought of her I was reminded again of her affect on my life.

This lady who had 9 children, moved various times, lost her husband when her youngest was 3(if I remember right), and raised those children alone. Never once, that I know, did she go out and get a job. I think she may have done various things from home for a little money, but she was home.

Growing up her house was my favorite place to be, with over 50 cousins there was always bound to be someone else there to play with! Countless memories were made at Grandma’s house. Lessons learned.

This godly lady’s life was a shining testimony to me.

My grandma, who never went to school, taught herself to read, so she could read the Bible. Many times I would find in her room her Bible always open, markings all over the worn pages, encased in the Bible cover we bought her for one year, the same one I received just like grandma’s. Barely could she sign her name but she could read the Word of God.

Numerous times when I fought other cousins to sleep with grandma, we would go to bed and I would lie there until I fell asleep and listen to my grandma, kneeling by the beside, pray for each of her children and their families.

That same room held so many memories, the closet with its boxes and bins of scrap material. The faithful old sewing machine sitting in front of the window like it has my whole life. Early on she would open the huge tin of buttons and thread a big needle with yarn and let me “sew” them on the string. I would string whole strand of the prettiest buttons and then I would be off to play. Later came the boxes of scraps, cutting tiny pieces to make a small blanket for dolls. She taught me to sew by hand, just like she did while we watched one movie or another. I still have that scrap blanket. And then on we progressed to the machine, sewing, creating, dreaming up new creations. She’d get me started and wander off to work on something else. She put the first quilting needle in my hand, to put a few stitches in one of the many quilts that used to be in the frame upstairs. Much of my crafty-ness came from her nurturing my love of creating.

But it wasn’t just crafting that she taught, spring, summer, and fall we would work in her flower beds and gardens on her property. Showing me which weeds to pull, how to collect seeds for next year, telling me numerous names of plants. And in the winter she used to let me help water the plants in her “plant room” as we affectionately called it. One room packed full of nothing but plants. Forget a green thumb, she had green hands. From those gardens, and grape vines in the backyard, I helped numerous times with canning. Picking, cleaning, cutting, mashing, packing, salting, and stacking the fruit of our labour on the shelves that ran the width of the basement.

And the food lessons didn’t end with the canning. You can pretty much be guaranteed  to eat fried chicken at any given point. And if she knew you were coming,she’d pretty much have the food done as soon as you got there. Biscuit making lessons, no measurements. You just look at it, and feel it, and know what it needs. She helped me roughly write down the recipe one time.  And I make them the same way today, no recipe anymore. And every time I do I feel a little closer to her.

Holidays were always times of great abundance of food, her pie cabinet would be filled with pie for everyone. “Well, raspberry is Dan’s favorite. And Terry always wants sweet potato…” I learned that one too and still make it on the holidays.

I could go on, but I probably should stop. You see today we are putting my quilt in the quilting frame. The quilt I showed my grandma and she was tickled over, and quickly pulled out her dresden to show how she quilted her.

I am so proud to have a Grandma who lives up to her name, Ruby- a virtuous woman who’s life is more precious to me than rubies.

I have a Goodly Heritage…