Janette Oke (7 page)

Chapter Nine

Occasions

Even after the Depression had ended and the long struggle to recover had begun, all the money that Fred could manage was tucked away in order to pay the farm taxes and make mortgage payments to Mr. Hoggarth. Because of the difficult times for farmers and townsfolk alike, Christmas celebrations could often be quite skimpy.

Amy and her brood worked carefully with what little materials they had, coupled with ample creativity, so that no one felt really deprived. And there were times when the results were exceptional.

When Janette and Margie were small, their older sisters planned a lovely dollhouse for them to share. Hours went into fashioning a little table and chairs, cupboards, and the little stove, painted to look just like Mom's big kitchen stove. Everything was made of wood and painted with trim, and the resulting furnished house delighted the two little girls. They played with it for hours at a time, and it became Janette's most cherished childhood toy.

There was usually a new dress at Christmastime, even if it was a made-over hand-me-down. One Christmas in particular stood out in the mind of Janette, who was growing quickly in spite of hard times. This Christmas dress was especially wonderful. As she slipped it on and looked at the reflection smiling back at her from the mirror, she felt lovely and special.

The dress was made in two pieces—a pleated plaid skirt buttoning onto a white blouse. When the time came for the community Christmas concert, she was pleased and proud to be so dressed up. Amy's face mirrored her children's pleasure in the gifts she worked so hard to produce.

It was an earlier Christmas that Amy herself held as most dear. On an especially cold, snowy day there was a jingling of harness, and a team and sleigh pulled into the yard. The farm dogs barked and then old Pooch hurried away to hide. The door was opened in anticipation of a caller, and the heavy fur coat of a bachelor neighbor filled the doorway. In his hands he carried a rather large box.

“For the kids,” he said and placed it in Amy's arms. Words could not express the emotions of the young mother, and a special place for the dear old neighbor engraved itself upon her heart.

When the youngsters were allowed to open the gift, they discovered all sorts of goodies. Exclamations and laughter rang throughout the house. Janette was particularly delighted with the oranges the box produced. Oranges were a rare treat during that time.

On several occasions the Ruggles uncles came for a visit. They were still working at the Guess Ranch, living close to each other and somewhat communally. With them always came fun and laughter, the whole house seeming to rock with activity. It was wonderful for Amy to greet family, bringing their “goodie boxes” of special groceries too. She would laugh and tease, so thrilled to be with her brothers again.

The children were glad to see them, though the younger ones often hung back, not quite certain how to take the pranks of the teasing uncles. The favorite trick seemed to be to scare the wide-eyed youngsters. One would pull out a jackknife, sliding his finger along the sharp flashing blade. They were either going to “cut off ears” or “cut out goozlers,” and though Janette was not quite certain where her “goozler” was, she wished to keep hers and was certain to keep at least an arm's distance away.

After giving the small ones a good scare, the uncles would pull out a sack of candy. Older children were more than happy to accept, knowing the uncles better than the younger ones, and at last even Janette was willing to forgive the earlier threats after her mouth was filled with jelly beans and her hands sticky with mints. Soon she was sitting easily on the uncle's knee, being assured that she would never be harmed and laughing along at the silliness.

Some visitors who pulled into the Steeves' yard were complete strangers. Often Indians would pass by the farm either singly or in groups, usually riding horseback or using teams and wagons. A few dogs ran with them, and many times at a stern command the animals would retreat and actually run under the wagon as it passed over the dusty road.

Sometimes the Indians stopped at the house for a drink of water or to sell their wares, which were usually smoked fish taken from some deep, cold Alberta lake. This was always a treat, with the children often being allowed to break off pieces and eat it like candy. Amy would later boil the remaining smoked fish and serve it with cream sauce. It was wonderful either way.

Though the Indians never gave Janette reason to fear them, she found her heart beating quickly whenever they arrived. Perhaps it was just that they were so different or that she could not put the wild stories of her older sister June out of her mind. June had quite an imagination and created bizarre tales of how Indians liked to “catch little white kids and hang their livers on the tallest branch of a tree.”

Though Janette was aware of rumors related to Indian atrocities, it was well understood that there had been no real skirmishes between the Indians and the white people in Alberta except for one brief fling connected with the Riel Rebellion. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police had been created to forego problems and were very effective in doing so.

The quiet people who visited were always polite, and yet, her fear having no ability to reason, Janette shivered with fright whenever she saw them and secretly nursed some amount of awe as well.

One day when work was finished for the time being and Amy allowed herself to visit a neighbor for a cup of tea, the girls at home heard a knock at the door.

Margie opened it and was startled to find an Indian man. She may have shared Janette's fears of Indians or perhaps was simply too young to realize what she was doing, but the choice she made turned out to be a poor one.

The day was hot, and the man and his horse probably had traveled for quite some distance.

“Can I have some water?” he asked.

Margie nodded in the affirmative and told him “yes.” Then she shut the door behind her. Apparently she expected him to get his own drink. The pump was in the pump house in the nearby yard.

When Amy arrived home a short time later, she was very upset. The Indian man had been quite offended at having the door closed on him and went farther down the road to the next place where Amy happened to be visiting. There he told of the treatment he had been given at the previous farm, and Amy knew that the previous farm had been hers. Amy made it clear to each of her children that nothing like this was ever to happen again, good intentions or not.

All neighborhood news traveled quickly, even without the modern-day convenience of the telephone. So even the children were aware when little bits of information reached their ears of a death in the community. One of the local men had been killed in a farm accident, and by the looks on faces it had been something terrible.

Then one day, the widow came with some neighbors to the Steeves' house and children were sent outside to play. When the company left and the little ones were free to go back inside the house, Amy was still wiping tears from her eyes.

This puzzled Janette. After all, the man was not “theirs,” and she asked her mother about it and why she was crying.

“The Bible says that we are to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep,” Amy answered softly. The words sounded very strange and Janette's childish mind pondered them for some time, trying to sort out some kind of meaning. At last she felt she understood the lesson in compassion, because it was not just
taught
by her mother, but
lived
.

Janette also learned early the meaning of service to others. Neighbors often called upon Amy at the time of sickness to help nurse the ailing back to health. There were even times when she drove off to a home where she prepared a body for burial, trying also to bring comfort and help to the grieving.

While she was still small, Janette hated those interruptions into their family life, and she would stand at the window and cry as her mother left the home.

Later she realized how unselfishly her mother gave of herself to others. And because her mother gave freely, she also “gave” her girls. When others were in need of help for one situation or another, Amy was quick to offer the services of a daughter.

“She'd be glad to help you,” Amy would say, and they did—starting quite early to lend a hand here and there.

Many of the daughters developed this spirit of generosity. Times were difficult and needs in the community around them were abundant. The Steeves did not have a great deal to offer, but what they could do to help they did willingly and generously.

Jean was one of the first of Amy's daughters to capture the zeal that her mother felt for her Christian faith. As a teenager, her ardent desire to serve the Lord made her hold tenaciously to her beliefs, even when faced with sisters who were more concerned about having a good time. Sometimes she would argue until tears came for some point she considered important.

When at last there came an opportunity, Amy announced to the family that she was going to be baptized. The service was planned on the banks of a small stream in a neighbor's pasture, and the district superintendent was to be present, assisting the local pastor. Jean quickly asked to be baptized as well.

The day arrived, and it was cool. Nevertheless, the crowd of people made their way across the field and clustered near the muddy bank. One after another, the baptisms were performed and the shivering participants, their faces glowing, waded back to shore into the arms of those who loved them.

Janette joined in as they sang “Shall We Gather at the River,” her eyes wide with wonder. It was a strange ceremony, yet beautiful too. Perhaps someday she would be able to participate.

Chapter Ten

Summertime

Early in the season, just after spring buds had opened and birds returned to the northern trees, the yearly pleading would begin.

“Can I take off my shoes?”

“Not yet.”

“It's warm.”

“Not warm enough. There's still frost in the ground.”

“Well, it feels warm.”

“You'll catch your death of cold.”

“No, I won't.”

“Not yet!”

When at last shoes were abandoned to their summer resting place and bare feet once again reveled in the cool dusty feeling of the hard-packed earth, freedom seemed to return.

It felt especially good to run through the grasses and down the paths after a summer rain shower. The cool mud oozed between toes and then dissolved in the “fairly clean” puddles where feet were rinsed before the children were allowed into the house for a proper washing.

After one delightful rainstorm that filled the slough to overflowing, Jack was feeling particularly boyish, bragging about how good his “brakes” were. He had soon talked Janette into watching the demonstration.

Jack took a good run toward the slough that had risen well past its usual watermark, making the grassy bank wet and slick. Just before he reached the water, he did as he had bragged and slammed on his “brakes.”

Unfortunately, he had forgotten to take into account how slippery the wet grass would be and his “brakes” failed to work. Janette watched as his feet flew out from under him and he slid on his backside right into the small pond. The walk back to the house seemed so much farther to a boy dripping with pond water and followed by his laughing sister.

Except for Sundays and special outings, shoes were not worn by the Steeves children. It not only pleased the young ones; it made it easier on the family budget if shoes wore out less quickly and were able to last through a greater number of children before needing to be replaced.

Although Janette enjoyed casting aside her shoes as much as anyone else did, it was more uncomfortable for her in the end. Plagued with very dry skin and with the added drying of dust or mud, her heels cracked into miserable, deep sores.

After a day of playing outside, wash time followed. For Janette it turned into crying time each night. The water would make the cracked heels sting. Amy scrubbed as carefully as she could but still the screaming and crying could not be helped. When the feet were clean, the strong-smelling Watkins carbolic ointment was rubbed into the open sores and they were given a night of rest and healing. The next day would bring the same treatment and the process would begin again.

Another hazard of going barefooted was stubbed toes. Time and again someone would jam a toe into a stone and soon the nail was black and blue until it simply fell off. A new nail formed underneath, but there was always a chance that the sore toe would bump against something else before it had a chance to fully heal.

Though going barefoot made the soles of their feet calloused and tough, sharp objects did hurt and slivers could still be a problem. Sometimes on a quiet evening, the siblings would take turns picking one another's slivers. If the daily washing of feet had not been finished yet, a wet rag would be used to scrub little by little across the foot, slivers being removed as they were found. Many of the feet had already become calloused so they no longer hurt, but if the slivers could still be seen they were picked anyway.

It was rather like monkey grooming. Perhaps not very refined or genteel, but more than a little necessary—and even quite pleasant to have feet free from thorns again.

All too soon winter followed and shoes were taken from their storage places—along with heavy stockings, coats, mittens, and scarves. On arriving home after a day of play during the brisk winter, Janette saw the neighbor's car waiting in the drive. Inside the house she heard sounds of rushing around; then someone came out with a pale Amy and helped her into the seat of the car waiting for a trip to the hospital in the town of Rimbey. Later, words of hemorrhaging and miscarriage were overheard. Though Janette knew nothing of the meaning of the words, the worried tones of the hushed voices filled her with concern. She was afraid that her mother might not be coming home again. The following days passed slowly one by one.

Christmas Eve arrived without Mother, but the family tried to carry on the best they could, so the stockings were hung as usual. Janette received two small gifts; one was a little tool with pegs and a hole in the center. The idea was to weave yarn in and out, creating a long, round something. Though she was never quite sure what to do with the product of her work, it did help to fill many hours while her mother was away.

Later, when Amy returned, Janette overheard her mother say that one of the gifts Janette had received in her stocking was intended for Margie. The sisters had given Margie another present in its place, but the sense of having something that belonged to someone else was difficult to shake, even though Janette had had nothing to do with the mistake. The feeling of guilt kept her from enjoying the simple toy.

On Christmas Day, Betty and Jean took over dinner preparations. It seemed to take so very long for them to finish. While Janette tried to occupy her time elsewhere, the teens scurried around in the kitchen.

At last the turkey was removed from the oven. Betty and Jean were horrified to watch it fall to pieces as they tried to lift it from the pan. Tears followed for their failed efforts, but Janette knew nothing of the catastrophe. When at last she received the call to come and eat, she ate well, though she wondered why it had taken so much time to make beans for Christmas dinner. There were other foods served, but Janette had perceived only that Christmas without Mother was laboriously prepared baked beans.

During Amy's stay in the hospital, eight-year-old Janette took it upon herself to write a little poem.

Away down in Rimbey way
Each day I pray
For my mother
For she is my lover
Each night I dream
Of the lovely scene
When she comes home
Together we will roam
Although she's far away
If I pray
She'll come back someday

Janette thought it was a crazy little poem, but when her mother returned, someone showed it to her. Janette had been too embarrassed to deliver it herself.

Over the next days, everyone who came to the house had to suffer through hearing that poem read. And though Janette was uncomfortable with sharing her work with so many people, it was the first time in her life that she realized something she had written could bring pleasure to someone else. And for a child, it was a “special” revelation.