There she was; 12 1/2 lbs. And the doctor said if he hadn’t dropped her and was afraid to weigh her again, she might have weighed another half pound.

No, she was not dropped on her head. The doctor must have been an ‘all thumbs’ kind of guy and just dropped her, but it was on the bed, not in the floor.

But of course, that has been suggested many times, when I said the doctor dropped me when I was born, invariably some “smart alec” will say, “He must have dropped you on your head”.

I was born on Valentine’s Day, 1931, the biggest Valentine my mother ever received. I’m sure she was about ready to return me, if that were possible, when she was in labor for many hours trying to birth me. I was born at home, not a hospital. Unlike today, doctors made house calls then.

Mother was a very frail lady at the age of 36 when I was born and for the next ten years; I don’t think she ever fully recovered from having such a large baby. It seemed she was ill a lot during those ten years.

This was right after the big economic crash of 1929. There were not many jobs for people of any level in life. But for my father, who had only a second grade education, they were almost nonexistent. He did odd jobs for farmers and was paid in hams or black eyed peas. We moved a lot. I don’t suppose my father ever had money to pay the rent, since he couldn’t find work.

We lived in town, Poplar Bluff, Missouri, when I was born. Then we moved across the street. When the river flooded we were flooded out of our house and we had to spend the night in the court house. This was an adventure for us kids. We had a ball. But I still remember those striped ticked mattresses that we slept on, on the floor.

Then we moved to a place that was called the Sam Luck place, named that for the previous occupant. Old Sam died and we lived in the log house for a couple of years.

While living there, my aunt and my half brother, his wife and my cousin came to visit. I think they only stayed one day, then left. After that, my dad took us to St. Louis, Missouri where we stayed with my half brother and his wife for about three months. My dad was unable to find work in St. Louis so we returned to Poplar Bluff. We moved into a one room house that someone had built and never lived in it. It was out in the woods and the only thing between us and the elements was the outside wall and cardboard on the inside.

My mother was ill one day while we lived there and she heard a noise coming from the wall. My dad tore the cardboard off the wall and there was a big black snake. It was called a “black snake” and harmless. But my dad killed it anyway. He didn’t know anything about ecology or saving the animals, or animal rights at that time.

We moved from there to a house we called the Holloway house. It belonged to an old lady whose son, a doctor had lived there and had died at a very young age. She grieved for this son and would not let anyone live in the room in which he died. So, we lived in the other three rooms. It was a two story house, but the upstairs was never finished. It had a cistern on the back porch. The porch was about six feet off the ground and the cistern was concrete. That’s where we got our water to drink and other purposes.

When it stormed and the wind blew greatly, we could feel the house weaving and once I said “Momma, the house just went over to one side and it never moved back.” I was about five or six at that time.

While we lived there we kids went to Deal Town School. It was an all purpose building. They used it for school, grades one through eight. But it was also used for a church. We had church every Sunday, Sunday night and sometimes on Wednesday. There was no electricity and they installed Aladdin lamps, which were gas lamps. They were really efficient in the bright light they afforded.

Also while we lived there my mother and I took the train from Poplar Bluff to St. Louis. The first train ride I ever had. My half brother and his wife wanted to take my mother to the doctor and find out why she had a rash on her legs. It was diagnosed as eczema. My mother and I were taken back home by my half brother and his wife.

Next we moved back into town. That’s where my mother began to get really ill. She was unable to clean the house or cook or wash or anything. She was unable to walk.

I continued going to school at J. Minnie Smith elementary school. We had grades kindergarten through sixth grade. I was really happy going to that school. I was allowed to eat lunch for a nickel every day and I loved the vegetable soup we had. I had never had vegetable soup before. It was delicious.

I was nine years old in February of 1940 and my mother got really ill. She could not get out of bed. The doctor came. But there was nothing he could do. My father, my two sisters and I were standing at the foot of her bed and my brother was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had been summoned home because of Mother’s illness. As we watched, my mother passed from this world to the next in May of 1940. I know she is in Heaven. I plan on meeting her there one day.

One year, nearly to the day in March of 1941, I was at school and someone came and took me home. They said my father had been taken to the hospital where he passed away about ten minutes after he got there.

So, at the tender age of ten years old, I was orphaned. It is so devastating to grow up without a mother or a father. People do not realize how difficult it is for children to grow up orphans. Even now as old (as I am) at the age of 73, it is still difficult. I missed my mother so much. When other girls had problems they had a mother to go to; to talk to. But I had no one. You can’t talk to a brother about the personal problems a girl experiences. My brother was a wonderful person and gave me a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food to eat. But he could not take the place of a mother and father. I will always be grateful to him.

However, he was neither mother nor father. It hurt me when I realized that my mother had a brother and a sister who were much better off financially than we were and neither of them offered to take me and take care of my needs. My father had half sisters and a half brother who never offered to take care of me either. So, it was left up to my brother. For that I will always be extremely humbled and grateful to him.

I owe my very existence to my brother and to my Heavenly Father who sustained me, even when I didn’t know Him. So, I know He has a plan for my life.

This story is to tell everyone who reads it, if you have a mother and/or father, be thankful and praise the Lord. Be kind and respectful and show them your love often, because you never know when they might be taken from you. Being an orphan is one of the worst experiences of my life.

Orphaned-2004

Nell Berry nmberry@mcmsys.com

About me: I live in Missouri at Mark Twain Lake. My husband and I both are 73. We have four children and nine grandchildren and soon to be two great grandchildren. I like to sew, crochet, cook & bake and write, poems/song lyrics and short stories. Now, I have a novel almost finished.