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October 3, 2002 - "My Dad, The Robot?"
Welcome to 2TheHeart!
For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. -Edwin Way Teale
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2TheHeart is very excited to have formed a partnership with our newest sponsor, Guideposts! Guideposts magazines, books and devotionals have been spiritual gems for generations (I grew up on Guideposts magazine and now subscribe to Angels on Earth magazine, another of their publications!) Take a moment to be blessed: http://www.qksrv.net/click-404250-9497308
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Another near-poetry story of memories so rich you can almost feel them! Karen shares her transition from city to country through the eyes of a six-year old.
"My Dad, the Robot?"
By Karen Harper DeLoach
When I was six years old, my dad was stationed in Madison, Wisconsin, for a one-year tour of duty. We left the big city life in Oklahoma and moved into a big two-story farmhouse in the beautiful countryside on the outskirts of Madison. It had a huge green lawn and lots of trees made for climbing, some loaded with apples waiting to be picked. A farmer leased the outlying land and the old-fashioned red barn with its smelly pigsty, but we kids were allowed to visit the chickens and ducks and pigs. My sister Linda and I attended a one-room school ala 'Little House on the Prairie'. I loved the country life!
So many memories pop into my mind about that short period in my life. When visiting a nearby playmate, we wandered through her Daddy's fields, the smell of fresh-turned dirt and dew-covered plants filling our nostrils. When we got hungry, our snack was at our fingertips. We picked peas, zipped open the pods, and let the fresh green goodies roll down into our wide-open mouths. What a treat! Then we ran into her daddy's modern barn with its cows hooked up to silver milking machines and climbed the ladder to the top of the corn crib. We slid down the mountain of corn cobs on our makeshift piece-of-cardboard 'sleds'. Unfortunately, that thrill ride ended for me the day I saw a big rat in the corn crib. Alas! I wasn't a full-fledged country girl after all!
Harvest time brought nature's decorations of fat orange pumpkins, colorful gourds, red and gold leaves, plus man-made funny-looking scarecrows. We attended fall festivals and enjoyed games, hot homemade soup, and hot apple cider. Trick-or-treating was a whole new ball game. No walking door-to-door here. We kids jumped into the car and were driven from farm to farm.
At one dark, isolated farmhouse, a wrinkled bent-over woman who was not much taller than Linda came to the door. She must be a hundred, I thought. She smiled and waved us into the house. But every time we said, "Trick or treat!" and held out our bags, she just nodded, looked into our sacks, and smiled again. After a few minutes of this, I started thinking about the old witch in Hansel and Gretel. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up! Linda must have been thinking the same thing because she put herself protectively between us and the old lady and slowly backed us out of the room. When we reached the door, we made a break for it! We ran to the car, huffing and puffing, chattering excitedly about the old witch in the haunted farmhouse.
Winter was a magical time! Our cold-natured mom shivered her way through the winter, but we kids loved it. Snow! Lots of snow! Enough snow for snowmen and snowball fights. So much snow was plowed up from our l-o-n-g winding driveway that we had a small mountain behind our house, perfect for playing 'king of the hill'. Nobody came to my seventh birthday party because we were snowed-in, but Mom had a cake and presents for me, so it was a small price to pay for having SNOW!
One of my favorite Wisconsin memories happened on a wintry Sunday evening. Linda went to church with Mom, the little ones were tucked snugly into bed, and I was sitting on Daddy's lap watching television. We were watching Alfred Hitchcock Presents. It was an eerie tale about robots that were so life-like the only way you could tell they weren?t human was by listening to their chests. Instead of a heartbeat, there was a hum-m-m.
I watched in disbelief as a character in the story discovered that his wife had been replaced with a robot look-alike. Suddenly, a horrible thought! What if daddy had been replaced by a robot? I could be in terrible danger! I looked at his face. It looks like Daddy, I thought. But I knew there was only one way to tell for sure.
I had to be careful. If he were a robot, I couldn't let him know that I'd made the discovery. I curled up in his lap pretending to sleep and gradually slid my head down his chest until my ear was even with where his heart should be. I held my breath and listened closely . . .
Ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump. What relief! He didn't hum!
Such fun memories! Playing 'Red Rover' outside our one-room school on crisp afternoons. Borrowing a carrot from the refrigerator so our snowman would have a proper nose. Learning to ride a two-wheeler down the path that led to the red barn.
But the best memory of all - my feeling of blissful security when reassured that my dad wasn't a robot!
Karen Harper DeLoach copyright 2002
kdeloach@frontiernet.net
Karen is the author of "Thirty-one Years and a Stumble", a story of restoration and hope in the healing of her marriage. Her story "Covering Concern with Prayer" is featured in God Allows U-Turns: American Moments. See three of her stories in the 2theHeart archives. She is the mother of three sons and is her husband's 'Girl Friday' at their business in Statesboro, Georgia. To read an excerpt from her book, as well as other encouraging stories, please visit her web site at http://karendeloach.tripod.com .
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GET CREATIVE! Join our next Writing Workshop on creative writing! This mini four-week course begins in November and will teach you how to create a story, article or poem that zings and sings! Come get creative with us! www.2theheart.com/WritingWorkshops
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The Letter Box:
Hello Susan,
Just a note to say how pleased I am to read another story that Betty King so beautifully writes. I am a huge fan of Betty as she strives to rise above the immense factor of ms. Thank you for sharing!
Norma Liles
hoopla214@yahoo.com
Betty King has written a beautiful, poetic piece about fall. It almost sounds as if it could be put to music. Thank you for a reflection on this beautiful season.
Cathy Haddad
cathyhaddad@comcast.net
Such a beautiful told story "Fall" is...thanks for sharing with us readers
...wwjdleona
Just had to comment on Betty's beautiful description of the Fall and the most beautiful description of a most beautiful "heart" that she owns.
Love Francine Pucillo
franiap@aol.com
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