When we visited Scott, Vicky and Taylor in 1996 at Christmas time, I mentioned that my family had no Christmas when I was 9 years old. (My mother was expecting her sixth child at age 39 and wasn't happy about it at -- so we all had to suffer when she just skipped Christmas.) I had almost worn out the Sears Roebuck catalog and had high hopes that Santa would bring the small toy refrigerator with the play food that I wanted so badly. Taylor was astounded that we had no Christmas then and wanted to know why Santa didn't leave toys for all of us. I told him that I'd write to Santa and ask him to explain. He answered (looks like Scott's handwriting) with the poem that's below my letter.
December 24, 1996
Dear Santa, When I was a little girl, 9 years old, I hung my stocking on a chair (because we had no fireplace). I wanted you to bring a little toy refrigerator with 'play' food in it. When I got up Christmas morning and ran to my stocking, there was nothing in it -- I did not get anything at all for Christmas (and neither did any of my brothers and sisters)! Please tell me why you did not leave anythng for me that year. Jean (Peters) Moss
Dear Jean,
Rudolph had his bulb burn out;
Dasher caught the flu;
Dancer must have overslept;
Prancer lost his shoes.
Comet forgot his glasses, Donner and Blitzen drank too much beer;
They were always wanting to stop and pee;
So I said, "Forget it - we'll catch you next year!"
Santa
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Just in the Nick of Time!
Today, September 28, 2006, I called my sister, Doris Ann Harp, to wish her a happy 78th birthday. As we were talking, she told me two stories about our dad, Walter A. Peters, that I'd never heard.
The first story was about a time that Dad was living alone on the home place (after our mother had passed away). It was Saturday, and her husband, Hubert, asked her if she was going to Davidson, OK to see Dad. Doris said, "No, I'll just go tomorrow. As she was driving downtown, she said for some unknown reason she turned onto Wilbarger Street and then on to the highway from Vernon, TX to Davidson, Ok. She said she didn't know why she went on to Dad's house as she hadn't planned to. As she topped a hill near Dad's house, she saw a large fire behind his house. She hurried on, parked next to his house, and then ran to where the back yard was on fire. She saw Dad lying on the ground, exhausted from trying to put the fire out with buckets of water from the hydrant next to the house. She said the fire was all around him. Quickly she grabbed the bucket and started dousing the fire; then got him up and out of danger. Afterwards he told her that he had prayed that she would come! He'd been burning trash and somehow the fire got away from him and set the yard on fire. He'd tried to put it out with the buckets of water but wasn't able to and then collapsed from exhaustion. The fire continued to burn all around him. Talk about answered prayer!!!!! I'm sure that she saved his life that day.
Another story was one that I had heard part of - but not all. She said that when Dad got sick the final time and had to go to the hospital, she was in the room with him. He told her to look at that picture on the wall (a scene with a road going off into the distance). He said, "I'm going down that road; I can hear them singing and I'm going to church there." I'd only known of him going to church a few times -- to funerals, and once to a revival where he was very uncomfortable because of the flambouyant preaching and collection of offerings in large ice cream buckets by the revival team. He was a Christian but didn't care much for preachers as their small church's pastor often ate Sunday dinner at their house and would always tell him to go feed his horse (he thought the pastor took advantage of his parents' generosity).
While Doris was there, he asked her to cut off that light as it was so bright. She started to flip it off at the switch and he said, "No, it's up higher and it's too bright." We wondered if he was being ushered into Heaven with the music and the light. My brother, Jack, also told this story of his last few hours with him in the hospital. Dad told Jack to look out the window at that man on a horse. Jack said he didn't see anyone or a horse and told him that. Dad said, "That man is on the most beautiful horse I've ever seen and he's coming to take me with him!" He passed away shortly after that. (I hope that is the way I go up to Heaven as I've always loved horses and used to help my dad round up and move cattle.)
Today, September 28, 2006, I called my sister, Doris Ann Harp, to wish her a happy 78th birthday. As we were talking, she told me two stories about our dad, Walter A. Peters, that I'd never heard.
The first story was about a time that Dad was living alone on the home place (after our mother had passed away). It was Saturday, and her husband, Hubert, asked her if she was going to Davidson, OK to see Dad. Doris said, "No, I'll just go tomorrow. As she was driving downtown, she said for some unknown reason she turned onto Wilbarger Street and then on to the highway from Vernon, TX to Davidson, Ok. She said she didn't know why she went on to Dad's house as she hadn't planned to. As she topped a hill near Dad's house, she saw a large fire behind his house. She hurried on, parked next to his house, and then ran to where the back yard was on fire. She saw Dad lying on the ground, exhausted from trying to put the fire out with buckets of water from the hydrant next to the house. She said the fire was all around him. Quickly she grabbed the bucket and started dousing the fire; then got him up and out of danger. Afterwards he told her that he had prayed that she would come! He'd been burning trash and somehow the fire got away from him and set the yard on fire. He'd tried to put it out with the buckets of water but wasn't able to and then collapsed from exhaustion. The fire continued to burn all around him. Talk about answered prayer!!!!! I'm sure that she saved his life that day.
Another story was one that I had heard part of - but not all. She said that when Dad got sick the final time and had to go to the hospital, she was in the room with him. He told her to look at that picture on the wall (a scene with a road going off into the distance). He said, "I'm going down that road; I can hear them singing and I'm going to church there." I'd only known of him going to church a few times -- to funerals, and once to a revival where he was very uncomfortable because of the flambouyant preaching and collection of offerings in large ice cream buckets by the revival team. He was a Christian but didn't care much for preachers as their small church's pastor often ate Sunday dinner at their house and would always tell him to go feed his horse (he thought the pastor took advantage of his parents' generosity).
While Doris was there, he asked her to cut off that light as it was so bright. She started to flip it off at the switch and he said, "No, it's up higher and it's too bright." We wondered if he was being ushered into Heaven with the music and the light. My brother, Jack, also told this story of his last few hours with him in the hospital. Dad told Jack to look out the window at that man on a horse. Jack said he didn't see anyone or a horse and told him that. Dad said, "That man is on the most beautiful horse I've ever seen and he's coming to take me with him!" He passed away shortly after that. (I hope that is the way I go up to Heaven as I've always loved horses and used to help my dad round up and move cattle.)
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