I have a small drawing made by my Aunt Anna. My aunt left this earth on Jan 2, 2001 at the age of 82. A good long life. This Aunt was quite talented in crafts and art. She enjoyed doing both her whole life. One year, I'm not sure what year it was, she drew this little picture for use on her Christmas cards. She titled it " The Old Homestead " and it was the home she grew up in.
This home was the home of my Grandmother. My grandmother had ten children,seven girls and three boys. Each grew up in this same home. My mother is the last of those children. All the others have gone to their final reward. The old homestead has long since passed into history. It was torn down many years ago. Some vandals had set a fire in it while it sat vacant.
I too, knew this home well. Many happy memories for me resided in that home. I can picture Nana, as we called her, in her kitchen. The kitchen was by far the largest room in the house and was the center of all activity. The big old coal stove, used for cooking as well as heat, was never without a fire. So many delicious cookies and cakes came out of that oven.
As I look at this drawing I can picture it all. I have no other picture of this home. To the best of my knowledge, no others exist. Perhaps one of my numerous cousins may have a snapshot, but I have no way of knowing. And so the number of people with any memories of this home grow fewer. I record the story here and tell the grand children about it.
The central portion of the house, the kitchen, was moved to the location I knew it to be in. It's original function was as a way station on a stage line. Not a stage line like you see in those old western movies though. This was just a stop between one town and the next. Back in the day before motor vehicles were in common use, horse and buggy was the way to go. This was just a stop to get the noon meal before continuing the days journey. Now, Grandmother worked for a wealthy family. This family wanted her to be closer to their home and purchased this way station and had it placed on the property. This family held the mortgage on the property. Grandma paid the loan off over the years. Additions were made as the family grew. Through the depression years, the second world war and all that followed until the early 1970's this home stood. My mother told me stories of her own youth in this home. I have stories of my own.
Now it is the year 2013 and all that remains are memories and a drawing. My aunt could not have imagined what significance this little drawing would have. I count it among some of my most precious articles. Those items that are irreplaceable. What a wonderful thing to have.
This home was the home of my Grandmother. My grandmother had ten children,seven girls and three boys. Each grew up in this same home. My mother is the last of those children. All the others have gone to their final reward. The old homestead has long since passed into history. It was torn down many years ago. Some vandals had set a fire in it while it sat vacant.
I too, knew this home well. Many happy memories for me resided in that home. I can picture Nana, as we called her, in her kitchen. The kitchen was by far the largest room in the house and was the center of all activity. The big old coal stove, used for cooking as well as heat, was never without a fire. So many delicious cookies and cakes came out of that oven.
As I look at this drawing I can picture it all. I have no other picture of this home. To the best of my knowledge, no others exist. Perhaps one of my numerous cousins may have a snapshot, but I have no way of knowing. And so the number of people with any memories of this home grow fewer. I record the story here and tell the grand children about it.
The central portion of the house, the kitchen, was moved to the location I knew it to be in. It's original function was as a way station on a stage line. Not a stage line like you see in those old western movies though. This was just a stop between one town and the next. Back in the day before motor vehicles were in common use, horse and buggy was the way to go. This was just a stop to get the noon meal before continuing the days journey. Now, Grandmother worked for a wealthy family. This family wanted her to be closer to their home and purchased this way station and had it placed on the property. This family held the mortgage on the property. Grandma paid the loan off over the years. Additions were made as the family grew. Through the depression years, the second world war and all that followed until the early 1970's this home stood. My mother told me stories of her own youth in this home. I have stories of my own.
Now it is the year 2013 and all that remains are memories and a drawing. My aunt could not have imagined what significance this little drawing would have. I count it among some of my most precious articles. Those items that are irreplaceable. What a wonderful thing to have.
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| The path leads to the kitchen door. |
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