PORTRAIT OF A CHRISTIAN MOTHER
An affectionate and vivid description of the author s own mother
By Margaret T. Kann
I N my hall of childhood’s memory, the ' portrait of my mother hangs bathed in perpetual sunlight. As my thoughts race back over the years, it seems to me that the title given to her by an old colored man on our ranch, whom we knew simply as “Pink,” best sums up all that she was and is—“ Miss.” This brief and affectionate title was coined by the aged Southern Negro for the unriv aled queen of his universe—the mistress of the plantation—the wife of his be loved “Massa.” With the passing of gen erations and of the old plantation life, the term has come to apply to those rare personalities, seldom met, who seem to have been crowned by nature mistress of all. “Miss” is loved, respected, looked- up-to, admired and adored by all. To her world she is the personification of beau ty, poise, style, kindness, genuine inter est, and a natural ability to share with others; and in sharing, she communi cates to others joy, happiness, an air of lightness and mirth, a sense of burdens lifted, and of spirits completely re freshed. Mother Nature endowed “Miss” with a perennial love of adventure which led her to marry a young cowboy whose father threw away a fine legal education already earned, to herd cattle on the wild Texas frontier; led her to move with him into a two-room ranch house in the heart of Indian territory, which later became the State of Oklahoma, and there where her only neighbors were joy and sorrow, loneliness, sand hills, and hard work, to become the mother of five girls and two boys. One night when the cowboy was away, “ Miss” awakened to hear the triumphant bark of the hunting hounds. They could not be very far away. That adventurous spirit of hers would not be quieted; the dogs had treed something which they evidently : considered worth-while — she must find out what it was. Quietly, lest she disturb the sleeping babies, she pulled on a pair of trousers, lit a flicker ing lantern, shouldered the old double- barreled shotgun, and set out to join the dogs. Soon she shined her lantern into an aged blackjack tree, and spotted a sullen opossum. Of course she brought the ’possum home, and felt no small bit of pride when she displayed her prize the next morning to the cowboy. Her sur prise was unbounded when she discov ered that instead of one ’possum, she had bagged ten; there were nine babies in the animal’s pocket! Needless to say, “ Miss” often found her children the center of her adven
awhile. Oftener than not, their childish voices would break out into singing, “ The Old Gray Mare came tearing out of the wilderness.” The years did not dim “Miss’s” spirit of adventure. The year that she became a great-grandmother, she decided that the cowboy needed a fishing partner, bought herself a pair of slacks, a rod and reel, some minnows, and caught more sand bass than any other member of the world’s largest Anglers Club. A second trait which has character ized “ Miss” is a self-bestowing love for others which seems to shine brightest on you, whoever you are. Because she was left in the world bereft of both another and father almost before she was old enough to start to school, “ Miss” longed to give to everyone she met some thing of the warmth and tender love- which she herself had missed. There were ample opportunities for such deeds of kindness among the ranchers. When a blue norther swept down across those barren saftd hills, tossing the tempera ture down around zero, there was no colder place on the face of the earth, it seemed. During one such spell, the fa miliar sound of a horse’s hoofs was heard outside the ranch house soon after midnight. This could only mean distress of some kind. “Miss” wrapped herself as warmly as possible, put all of her own children into one bed to keep each other warm, mounted the horse behind her neighbor, and went with a smile. By sunup a little stranger had put in his appearance at Simon’s house, but TMiss” still had problems. The diapers she washed and hung over the old wood stove promptly froze stiff. “ Miss” found a way out, as she always did. Perhaps it was with the warmth of her own personality. Each of “ Miss’s” children was sure that he w^s her favorite, and so has each of the young lives which she has influ enced through the years felt himself a favorite. When she was slightly their senior, adolescent boys and girls voted her their Sunday school teacher. I do not recall that there has been a year since until now that she has not been teaching that difficult age group. That self-bestowing love makes her more their favorite today at over sixty years of age, than ever before. But, most of all, “ Miss” is what she is because of her unshakable faith in the Person of God, the power of His Word, and the superiority of His will. The seeds of this faith were planted years ago on the ranch when catastrophe (Continued on Page 16) T H E K I N G 'S B U S I N E S S
tures. One unforgettable day strange voices filtered in on the breeze coming up from the creek bottom—not happy, joyous tones of children at play, but notes of fright and terror. “ Miss” hur ried to the row of tall majestic cotton wood trees to discover two tiny tots be ing swayed fifty feet overhead in the tiptop of thq tallest tree. One youngster could not summon enough courage to flatten herself against the tree trunk and slide away to the next footing. Her part ner was gaily sliding up and down the treacherous limb saying: “ If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” “ Miss” could only join in the pleading; surely the limbs at the top of the tree would
Latest Photograph of “Miss.”
not hold the weight of her body. Soon she was grasping two little girls in her arms, and thanking a loving heavenly Father for protection that was beyond her power to give. Not far from the ranch house was the edge of the virgin forest, in which lurked secrets of Indian lore. The chil dren spent numberless happy hours im personating first, the blood-thirsty In dians on the warpath; then, the brave whites who risked their lives to protect their cattle and homes. When “Miss” be gan to wonder if all was well in the for est, she had only to peer into the shadows for a while and soon one after another o f the children would appear on top of the trees to sit down in the thick maze of entwining grapevine to rest
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