The other day as I was cleaning the store room getting ready for another winter, I remembered that a window pane had been broken a couple months before when a dresser was shoved back to make more room.
While I had the dresser out, cleaning behind it and washing the windows I decided to take it out and have it repaired. The storm window fit tightly so there was no hurry, but one of those chores so easily neglected. As I was prying the sash board loose, a wave of memory swept over ma.
My thoughts were, “Isn’t it funny how lax and lazy I’ve gotten.” A few years ago I would have taken the measurements, ordered the glass cut, brought it home and installed it myself.
Then was when I began to remember why I knew how to install a pane of glass. My knees began to get weak. I had to back up a few steps and set down on the edge of the bed while my mind returned some 30 odd years to the time I was a girl of 10.
It was a Sunday afternoon and my aunt and uncle were in the house visiting with mom and dad after a big dinner. My two cousins and I were wandering around over the farm trying to find something entertaining to do with our time. The 8-year-old cousin reached down, picked up a rock and chucked it a short distance - right through a pane of glass in the wash house window, one of the six panes in the window.
The sound was delightful to our ears, the tinkling of breaking glass. It was immediately the entertainment we’d been looking for.
We drew a mark in the dirt with a stick to stand behind and take turns stepping up to the mark and taking aim. I don’t remember the score, but remember that I was the winner. I broke the most of the 18 panes with the least amount of stones.
The game was finished and other entertainment was sought.
Later in the afternoon when we came back from playing in the pasture, our dads were waiting for us by the shed. Our consciences hadn’t bothered us a bit about the right or wrong of the game until we saw the looks on their faces and suddenly we knew the wrong of it. Questions were asked. Did you? Why did you? What are you going to do about it?
To be continued.
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Editor’s note: Edith Lammey has been a resident of the area for nearly 40 years.
The article was originally published April 15,1987, by editor Cal Beisner.
Opinion, Pages 4 on 03/13/2013