A full glass of milk

 

The other day I had a pleasant memory from my childhood that I though I would share.  I'm not sure how old I was, maybe 8 or 9.  My ex-stepfather was a very stingy and mean man.  He always forced us to eat whatever was served to us wether we liked it or not.  We were only given half a glass of milk for our meals for two reasons.  Less likely to spill and also to make sure we didn't waste any of it.  We were also required to pick up and hold the cup with TWO hands to ensure no spilling.  Spilling was a great fear because we would be yelled at and shamed and possibly punished depending on the mood.  One day we had a special visitor.  My Mom's friend from Massachussets came.  He had been her Mom's companion for many years.  His name was Ray Walker.   Ray sat next to me at the evening meal and helped me get some milk.  He poured me a FULL glass of milk.  My little eyes watched in wonder as that glass filled to the very top.  I could see the nervous look in my Mother's eye and I could feel the anger coming from my stepfather, but what could he do?  He coulden't show his true colors in front of a visitor.  I remember proudly lifting up that full glass of milk with a BIG smile on my face.  I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.  I carefully drank from the brimming cup and set it down.  I was told that I better drink it all, and I did!  So I had a little moment of pride in that awful place.  I am not faulting my mother at all for any of this, she was powerless and I used to be in the circumstances I lived in.  She certainly did the best she could and made sure we felt loved. 

Stop over and visit Dad's Tomato Garden today, he has a great new video up!  Linda