Over a week had passed and still no word from Papa. I wondered where he had gone and stayed so long. I thought he would write to use if he had found a job and was working somewhere. I thought again that maybe he didn’t even have a penny for a postcard.

Mrs. Hannah paid Mama for the sewing and now Mama could pay her bill at the General Store.

"Stay here, children, that is all but Mac," ordered our mother. He and I are going to the store. We will be home soon.

Mama and Mac left the house. She had seven dollars and twenty cents in her pocket. She paid her bill at the store. Then she bought a piece of fat bacon, a can of maple syrup and 6 yards of muslin.

Mr. Depense gave Mama a bag of candy for all of us.

"Della," he said, "You are quite a woman, doing so much for your family. I hope you hear from Fred very soon."

Mama thanked him for the candy and for his kind words. She and Mac came home. Our mother was in a pleasant mood, almost happy. I think Mr. Depense made her feel good.

"Mama, you look good today," I said. What I really meant was that she looked happy.

"Minnie Mac, feed the chickens," and "Pledge, chop more fire wood. We need much kindlin wood. Mac, go help Pledge: Don’t you do any chopping, just carry some wood to the back porch."

"Marcella, sweep the front porch." Mama wanted the chores to get done.

Mama went to her room to sew on the old treadle machine. There were bloomers to make for us girls and underwear for my brothers. She made all of our clothes. It seemed that she was always sewing, if not for us, for someone else. When Mrs. Pearl gave her old coats and jackets, she made coats for us out of them. With the scraps left over, she made a nice warm quilt. Our mother did not waste anything.

On Saturday we all had baths in the big zinc tub in the kitchen. Mama fixed separate water for Terry as he was still recovering from the burn. She said he must not get inflammation. He was almost well and could go to church with the rest of us on Sunday.

On Sunday morning we had not biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Marcella and I washed the dishes while Mama made her bed and put out our Sunday clothes. I had two good dresses – a blue flower print with white rick-rack and a yellow dress with black button. Our mother said that I should wear the blue flower print and Marcella should wear her rainbow colored striped dress. Her dress was beginning to fade and she really wanted a new dress. Our brothers would wear clean overalls and blue chambray shirts.

We were clean – clean from head to foot as the six of us walked out of the house on our way to church which was about 3 blocks. Marcella held Mama’s hand. I walked beside Terry. Mac and Pledge ran ahead to the little white building on the crest of the low hill. The bell was ringing. I loved to hear the bell ring. It seemed to say: ding-dong, ding-dong, come on, come on! We quickened our walk. I saw friends I knew coming from different directions. I greeted them and we all went inside.

The service started. We always sang choruses first: the one chorus I enjoyed most was This is the Way because we clapped hands and sang loudly:

This is the way, this is the way that God leads us.

This is the way, this is the way that God leads us.

We will be glad and have joy in it.

I liked the bible class but I got sleepy when the Reverend Worles preached.

The last song we sang was Blest Be the Tie. Then we came out of the church, shaking hands with Reverend Worle at the door.

Mama talked briefly with friends and soon we were on our way home.

"Land of Crickets!" Mama gasped as she started in her bedroom. There on the clean counterpane on her bed was a strange man. He was thin and dirty. The lovely embroidered quilt on her bed looked filthy now.

Mama closed the door quietly. "We will let him sleep awhile and later we’ll know what to do. He looks pitiful."

"But Mama," I protested, "He is ruining the quilt you got on your wedding day."

"I can wash it," returned Mama. "If your Papa need a place to rest; I hope someone will do the same for him."

We went to the kitchen and talked softly. Mama cooked the pinto beans that had been soaking and she baked twice as many biscuits as usual. She fried green apples that had fallen from one of our trees.

I put a dozen eggs in an aluminum pot to boil. I could see that Mama was going to feed the hobo.

By the time the beans has boiled done, the man stirred. He came into the kitchen and said, "Ma’am, I’m sorry I took a nap on your bed but it has been three weeks since I found a bed to sleep on. Box cars are mighty hard for resting."

"No real harm done," said Mama. "If you go out by the pump and wash up, you may share our meal. We are just about ready to eat."

"Thank you kindly," returned the dirty man.

I fetched the soap and a towel for him.

When he came to the table with clean face and hands he looked so much better. The stranger had a ravenous appetite. I had never in my life seen such a hungry person. He devoured the food so fast. When he had finished, he kept telling Mama that she was a wonderful cook. Of course all of us children knew that she was the best cook in the world.

Ma’am, I’d like another favor," he said. "I have an extra pair of pants in this bundle. May I use one of your tubs to wash my clothes."

"I don’t know why not," Mama was helpful. She was always that way but I thought this tramp was asking too much from our family.

The man said that folks called him Red.

Mama said for us to say Mr. Red when speaking to him.

Well, Mr. Red took a small tub of water into the woodshed, washed himself some more and changed clothes. He had only his trousers and shoes on when he came out. Then he washed his clothes in the same zinc tub and hung them on the rope line to dry. Mama never washed clothes on Sunday so he had plenty of room on the rope line.

The hobo sat down on the back steps, waiting for his clothes to dry. We children gathered around him. He told us many stories about living in Kentucky and Virginia when he was a boy; he told of killing bears and wildcats. He told of working in the coal mines. Once he had gone to South America on a merchant ship. He had even been a soldier in France in World War I. We never knew if all his tales were true but he was certainly an interesting storyteller and had our full attention.

Late in the afternoon the man said, "I think my clothes are dry." He got up, took his dry clothes from the rope line, put them in a bundle and he left.

He left with some food. While we were listening to the man’s stores, Mama baked gingerbread.

"Here," offered Mama, "You’ll be hungry later. Take the biscuits and gingerbread."

The stranger thanked her, saying it had been a pleasant afternoon.

Mama put the dirty embroidered quilt in a tub to soak until Monday morning. She only did necessary work on Sundays.

The man had come and gone but he was not forgotten right away. He had in a way opened a window on the world that we had not looked through before. I now realized that we lived in a big, big world and that there were interesting far-away places where people lived and spoke strange languages.

Mama said that this man visiting in our house made her think all the more of Papa as if she ever quit thinking about him.

All of us missed Papa but we had to accept the fact each day that he might not come home that day. We were slowly learning to get along without him even though it hurt that he was gone so long.

Marcella and I went to bed early that Sunday night so did the others but we lay there it seemed for hours talking. We talked about a hundred things or more. Whatever the depression was, we hoped it would soon end.