I am a child of the South. I was born September 27, 1927. I was made on Saturday, December 27, 1926. This was not a significant day as my people did not recognize days of the week, months, nor hours as many people do in 2022. I was born among my people in safety and with care. There was no such thing as daycare, mobile phones, etc…
The only world I knew was the one I was born into; a world of peace. Before I was 10 years old my people’s land was raided. Everyone ran away or was killed. I was found hiding alone. The man who found me took me home and his sister raised me as her own. Life for me was difficult.
I had to survive and I did. I was married to a fiend of the family. A man who had served in the Army. I gave him three children. Two were girls and one a boy. I never told my children or my husband anything about my childhood. I felt it did not matter. My husband felt the same. Our words were few. We had responsibilities. Every thing we ate we had to grow or raise ourselves. All the clothing we wore all of the ladies in the area came together to make. Shoes were made for special occasion only. There were no special occasion so no shoes were worn. Soap was only one kind – lye soap and we used it to clean everything. Everything was stored in glass containers or mason jars.
Our lives changed when the missionaries came. They brought us cloth, including silks. They brought other kinds of soap, wash boards, sewing machines, and candies. We watched them closely though we did not understand what they would say. Their words were foreign to us but we found bartering with them successful.
These were hard days. Many people died. Most of the missionaries died. Snakes and wood rats were everywhere. Moths ate the silks. Snakes ate our chickens. Worms would take the fruit and weevils would take the grains and oats. Everyday was a fight to live. We hunted the snakes, skinned them and boiled their flesh. Fruit were picked as soon as possible and preserved for later consumption or barter. Grains and oats were stored in a way that air could not sully them. If stored to keep air out weevils and ants had no chance.
Babies were a supreme challenge. Usually the older ladies took care of the babies as they had the expertise to do so. Young mothers were taught how to care for babies and little ones however, only the older ladies tended to the children day and night. The young mothers worked with their husbands tending to the animals and keeping bacteria from taking hold of the home which was build by hand. The work was never ending.
My mother died in her sleep at home.
My mother’s family died by accident or by wild animals; wild boars and dogs were pack animals and they would hunt anything and anyone to the death.
That’s the way life was in my time.
Today I sit on the other side of the veil watching my descendants. They buy clothes and shoes on Amazon.com. They actually brush their teeth and wash their mouths. They don’t know how to raise chickens and they buy eggs from a store instead of out of a hen house fresh each morning. They drink water out of plastic instead of out of a well. They use the bathroom inside of the house and press a button to wash and dry their clothes. I used to use a wash bucket and lye soap, rinse and then hang the clothes outside on a clothesline. We used an outhouse and in some areas in Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi they still do. Few of my descendants hunt for their meat. None of this meat is cured, or smoked.
I sit here on the other side and watch in silence. Sometimes one or two of them can feel my attention, most of them can’t. I am usually alone as others in my bloodline come and go. Most of them never come beyond the veil. They go out of the old body and into the womb and are born again. They go on from life to life. Death is many things to different souls. Some souls go from human to animal to vegetation to fish to insect then back to human.
Once human always human is not true.
Death is the end of life is not true.
Love never fails is true.
Universal law is true.
I am sitting watching beyond the veil.
This is what I do.
Ms Coletha's Blog 