SuGaRNSpIcE Posted September 29 Report Share Posted September 29 im sorry , but this made me cryIn September 1960, I woke up onemorning with six hungry babiesand just 75 cents in my pocket. Theirfather was gone..The boys ranged from three months toseven years; their sister was two.Their Dad had never been much more thana presence they feared.Whenever they heard his tires crunch onthe gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.He did manage to leave $15 a week tobuy groceries.Now that he had decided to leave, therewould be no more beatings,but no food either.If there was a welfare system in effectin southern Indiana at thattime, I certainly knew nothing about it.I scrubbed the kids until they lookedbrand new and then put on mybest homemade dress. loaded them intothe rusty old 51 Chevyand drove off to find a job.The seven of us went to every factory,store and restaurant in oursmall town. No luck.The kids stayed crammed into the carand tried to be quiet while Itried to convince whomever would listenthat I was willing to learnor do anything. I had to have a job.Still no luck. The last place we wentto, just a few miles out oftown, was an old Root Beer Barreldrive-in that had been convertedto a truck stop. It was called the BigWheel.An old lady named Granny owned theplace and she peeked out of thewindow from time to time at all thosekids. She needed someone onthe graveyard shift, 11 at night untilseven in the morning. Shepaid 65 cents an hour and I could start thatnight.I raced home and called the teenagerdown the street that baby-satfor people. I bargainedwith her to come and sleep on my sofafor a dollar a night. Shecould arrive with her pajamas on andthe kids would already beasleep. This seemed like a goodarrangement to her, so we made adeal.That night when the little ones and Iknelt to say our prayers, weall thanked God for finding Mommy ajob. And so I started at theBig Wheel.When I got home in the mornings I wokethe baby-sitter up and senther home with one dollar of my tipmoney--fully half of what Iaveraged every night. As the weeks wentby, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. Thetires on the old Chevy hadthe consistency of penny balloons andbegan to leak.I had to fill them with air on the wayto work and again everymorning before I could go home.One bleak fall morning, I draggedmyself to the car to go home andfound four tires in the back seat. Newtires! There was no note, nonothing, just those beautiful brand newtires.Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.I made a deal with the local servicestation. In exchange for hismounting the new tires, I would cleanup his office. I remember ittook me a lot longer to scrub his floorthan it did forhim to do the tires.I was now working six nights instead offive and it still wasn'tenough. Christmas was coming and I knewthere would be no money fortoys for the kids.I found a can of red paint and started repairing andpainting someold toys. Then hid them in the basementso there would be somethingfor Santa to deliver on Christmasmorning.Clothes were a worry too. I was sewingpatches on top of patches onthe boys pants and soon they would be too fargone to repair.On Christmas Eve the usual customerswere drinking coffee in theBig Wheel. These were the truckers,Les, Frank, and Jim, and astate trooper named Joe. A fewmusicians were hangingaround after a gig at theLegion and were dropping nickels in thepinball machine. Theregulars all just sat around and talkedthrough the wee hours ofthe morning and then left to get homebefore the sun came up.When it was time for me to go home atseven o'clock on Christmasmorning I hurried to the car. I washoping the kids wouldn't wakeup before I managed to get home and getthe presents from the basement and place them underthe tree. (We had cut down asmall cedar tree by the side of theroad down by the dump.) It wasstill dark and I couldn't see much, butthere appeared to be somedark shadows in the car-or was that just atrick of the night? Somethingcertainly looked different, but it washard to tell what. When I reachedthe car I peered warily into one of theside windows. Then my jawdropped in amazement.My old battered Chevy was filled fullto the top with boxes of allshapes and sizes. I quickly opened thedriver's side door, crumbledinside and kneeled in the front facingthe back seat.Reaching back, I pulled off the lid ofthe top box. Inside waswhole case of little blue jeans, sizes2-10! I looked insideanother box: It was full of shirts togo with the jeans. Then Ipeeked inside some of the other boxes.There was candy and nuts andbananas and bags of groceries. Therewas an enormous ham forbaking, and canned vegetables andpotatoes.There was pudding and Jell-O andcookies, pie filling and flour.There was hole bag of laundry suppliesand cleaning items.And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful littledoll..As I drove back through empty streetsas the sun slowly rose on themost amazing Christmas Day of my life,I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget thejoy on the faces of mylittle ones that precious morning.....Yes, there were angels in Indianathat long-ago December..And they all hung out at the Big Wheeltruck stop.... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
xlr8ted Posted September 29 Report Share Posted September 29 Way too long, stopped reading after 1960 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SuGaRNSpIcE Posted September 29 Author Report Share Posted September 29 i hate reading long things like that too but this just made me cry i couldnt stop readingWay too long, stopped reading after 1960 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
nomembername Posted September 30 Report Share Posted September 30 im sorry , but this made me cryIn September 1960, I woke up onemorning with six hungry babiesand just 75 cents in my pocket. Theirfather was gone..The boys ranged from three months toseven years; their sister was two.Their Dad had never been much more thana presence they feared.Whenever they heard his tires crunch onthe gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.He did manage to leave $15 a week tobuy groceries.Now that he had decided to leave, therewould be no more beatings,but no food either.If there was a welfare system in effectin southern Indiana at thattime, I certainly knew nothing about it.I scrubbed the kids until they lookedbrand new and then put on mybest homemade dress. loaded them intothe rusty old 51 Chevyand drove off to find a job.The seven of us went to every factory,store and restaurant in oursmall town. No luck.The kids stayed crammed into the carand tried to be quiet while Itried to convince whomever would listenthat I was willing to learnor do anything. I had to have a job.Still no luck. The last place we wentto, just a few miles out oftown, was an old Root Beer Barreldrive-in that had been convertedto a truck stop. It was called the BigWheel.An old lady named Granny owned theplace and she peeked out of thewindow from time to time at all thosekids. She needed someone onthe graveyard shift, 11 at night untilseven in the morning. Shepaid 65 cents an hour and I could start thatnight.I raced home and called the teenagerdown the street that baby-satfor people. I bargainedwith her to come and sleep on my sofafor a dollar a night. Shecould arrive with her pajamas on andthe kids would already beasleep. This seemed like a goodarrangement to her, so we made adeal.That night when the little ones and Iknelt to say our prayers, weall thanked God for finding Mommy ajob. And so I started at theBig Wheel.When I got home in the mornings I wokethe baby-sitter up and senther home with one dollar of my tipmoney--fully half of what Iaveraged every night. As the weeks wentby, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. Thetires on the old Chevy hadthe consistency of penny balloons andbegan to leak.I had to fill them with air on the wayto work and again everymorning before I could go home.One bleak fall morning, I draggedmyself to the car to go home andfound four tires in the back seat. Newtires! There was no note, nonothing, just those beautiful brand newtires.Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.I made a deal with the local servicestation. In exchange for hismounting the new tires, I would cleanup his office. I remember ittook me a lot longer to scrub his floorthan it did forhim to do the tires.I was now working six nights instead offive and it still wasn'tenough. Christmas was coming and I knewthere would be no money fortoys for the kids.I found a can of red paint and started repairing andpainting someold toys. Then hid them in the basementso there would be somethingfor Santa to deliver on Christmasmorning.Clothes were a worry too. I was sewingpatches on top of patches onthe boys pants and soon they would be too fargone to repair.On Christmas Eve the usual customerswere drinking coffee in theBig Wheel. These were the truckers,Les, Frank, and Jim, and astate trooper named Joe. A fewmusicians were hangingaround after a gig at theLegion and were dropping nickels in thepinball machine. Theregulars all just sat around and talkedthrough the wee hours ofthe morning and then left to get homebefore the sun came up.When it was time for me to go home atseven o'clock on Christmasmorning I hurried to the car. I washoping the kids wouldn't wakeup before I managed to get home and getthe presents from the basement and place them underthe tree. (We had cut down asmall cedar tree by the side of theroad down by the dump.) It wasstill dark and I couldn't see much, butthere appeared to be somedark shadows in the car-or was that just atrick of the night? Somethingcertainly looked different, but it washard to tell what. When I reachedthe car I peered warily into one of theside windows. Then my jawdropped in amazement.My old battered Chevy was filled fullto the top with boxes of allshapes and sizes. I quickly opened thedriver's side door, crumbledinside and kneeled in the front facingthe back seat.Reaching back, I pulled off the lid ofthe top box. Inside waswhole case of little blue jeans, sizes2-10! I looked insideanother box: It was full of shirts togo with the jeans. Then Ipeeked inside some of the other boxes.There was candy and nuts andbananas and bags of groceries. Therewas an enormous ham forbaking, and canned vegetables andpotatoes.There was pudding and Jell-O andcookies, pie filling and flour.There was hole bag of laundry suppliesand cleaning items.And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful littledoll..As I drove back through empty streetsas the sun slowly rose on themost amazing Christmas Day of my life,I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget thejoy on the faces of mylittle ones that precious morning.....Yes, there were angels in Indianathat long-ago December..And they all hung out at the Big Wheeltruck stop.... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tastey Posted September 30 Report Share Posted September 30 only read the first few lines, but does she become a hooker in the end?6 kids and just 75 cents in her pocket in the first paragraph def sounds like a justification for later whoring to me Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
elevatedflow Posted September 30 Report Share Posted September 30 why is it sad, in the end she was generously given tires and toys for her kids ... there arent no angels in marcy projects son .. thats for shit sure ... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jimk29 Posted September 30 Report Share Posted September 30 I'll tell you what's sad, that you expect me to read that whole thing. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
nomembername Posted September 30 Report Share Posted September 30 between this thread and Haze's thread about cats & dogs being used as shark bait I must say that they are a perfect match for each other Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SuGaRNSpIcE Posted October 1 Author Report Share Posted October 1 oh u people have no <3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
deepspell Posted October 1 Report Share Posted October 1 im sorry , but this made me cryIn September 1960, I woke up onemorning with six hungry babiesand just 75 cents in my pocket. Theirfather was gone..The boys ranged from three months toseven years; their sister was two.Their Dad had never been much more thana presence they feared.Whenever they heard his tires crunch onthe gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.He did manage to leave $15 a week tobuy groceries.Now that he had decided to leave, therewould be no more beatings,but no food either.If there was a welfare system in effectin southern Indiana at thattime, I certainly knew nothing about it.I scrubbed the kids until they lookedbrand new and then put on mybest homemade dress. loaded them intothe rusty old 51 Chevyand drove off to find a job.The seven of us went to every factory,store and restaurant in oursmall town. No luck.The kids stayed crammed into the carand tried to be quiet while Itried to convince whomever would listenthat I was willing to learnor do anything. I had to have a job.Still no luck. The last place we wentto, just a few miles out oftown, was an old Root Beer Barreldrive-in that had been convertedto a truck stop. It was called the BigWheel.An old lady named Granny owned theplace and she peeked out of thewindow from time to time at all thosekids. She needed someone onthe graveyard shift, 11 at night untilseven in the morning. Shepaid 65 cents an hour and I could start thatnight.I raced home and called the teenagerdown the street that baby-satfor people. I bargainedwith her to come and sleep on my sofafor a dollar a night. Shecould arrive with her pajamas on andthe kids would already beasleep. This seemed like a goodarrangement to her, so we made adeal.That night when the little ones and Iknelt to say our prayers, weall thanked God for finding Mommy ajob. And so I started at theBig Wheel.When I got home in the mornings I wokethe baby-sitter up and senther home with one dollar of my tipmoney--fully half of what Iaveraged every night. As the weeks wentby, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. Thetires on the old Chevy hadthe consistency of penny balloons andbegan to leak.I had to fill them with air on the wayto work and again everymorning before I could go home.One bleak fall morning, I draggedmyself to the car to go home andfound four tires in the back seat. Newtires! There was no note, nonothing, just those beautiful brand newtires.Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.I made a deal with the local servicestation. In exchange for hismounting the new tires, I would cleanup his office. I remember ittook me a lot longer to scrub his floorthan it did forhim to do the tires.I was now working six nights instead offive and it still wasn'tenough. Christmas was coming and I knewthere would be no money fortoys for the kids.I found a can of red paint and started repairing andpainting someold toys. Then hid them in the basementso there would be somethingfor Santa to deliver on Christmasmorning.Clothes were a worry too. I was sewingpatches on top of patches onthe boys pants and soon they would be too fargone to repair.On Christmas Eve the usual customerswere drinking coffee in theBig Wheel. These were the truckers,Les, Frank, and Jim, and astate trooper named Joe. A fewmusicians were hangingaround after a gig at theLegion and were dropping nickels in thepinball machine. Theregulars all just sat around and talkedthrough the wee hours ofthe morning and then left to get homebefore the sun came up.When it was time for me to go home atseven o'clock on Christmasmorning I hurried to the car. I washoping the kids wouldn't wakeup before I managed to get home and getthe presents from the basement and place them underthe tree. (We had cut down asmall cedar tree by the side of theroad down by the dump.) It wasstill dark and I couldn't see much, butthere appeared to be somedark shadows in the car-or was that just atrick of the night? Somethingcertainly looked different, but it washard to tell what. When I reachedthe car I peered warily into one of theside windows. Then my jawdropped in amazement.My old battered Chevy was filled fullto the top with boxes of allshapes and sizes. I quickly opened thedriver's side door, crumbledinside and kneeled in the front facingthe back seat.Reaching back, I pulled off the lid ofthe top box. Inside waswhole case of little blue jeans, sizes2-10! I looked insideanother box: It was full of shirts togo with the jeans. Then Ipeeked inside some of the other boxes.There was candy and nuts andbananas and bags of groceries. Therewas an enormous ham forbaking, and canned vegetables andpotatoes.There was pudding and Jell-O andcookies, pie filling and flour.There was hole bag of laundry suppliesand cleaning items.And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful littledoll..As I drove back through empty streetsas the sun slowly rose on themost amazing Christmas Day of my life,I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget thejoy on the faces of mylittle ones that precious morning.....Yes, there were angels in Indianathat long-ago December..And they all hung out at the Big Wheeltruck stop.... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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