so sad

[SuGaRNSpIcE]

im sorry , but this made me cry

In September 1960, I woke up one

morning with six hungry babies

and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their

father was gone..

The boys ranged from three months to

seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than

a presence they feared.

Whenever they heard his tires crunch on

the gravel driveway they

would scramble to hide under their beds.

He did manage to leave $15 a week to

buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there

would be no more beatings,

but no food either.

If there was a welfare system in effect

in southern Indiana at that

time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked

brand new and then put on my

best homemade dress. loaded them into

the rusty old 51 Chevy

and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory,

store and restaurant in our

small town. No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car

and tried to be quiet while I

tried to convince whomever would listen

that I was willing to learn

or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went

to, just a few miles out of

town, was an old Root Beer Barrel

drive-in that had been converted

to a truck stop. It was called the Big

Wheel.

An old lady named Granny owned the

place and she peeked out of the

window from time to time at all those

kids. She needed someone on

the graveyard shift, 11 at night until

seven in the morning. She

paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that

night.

I raced home and called the teenager

down the street that baby-sat

for people. I bargained

with her to come and sleep on my sofa

for a dollar a night. She

could arrive with her pajamas on and

the kids would already be

asleep. This seemed like a good

arrangement to her, so we made a

deal.

That night when the little ones and I

knelt to say our prayers, we

all thanked God for finding Mommy a

job. And so I started at the

Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke

the baby-sitter up and sent

her home with one dollar of my tip

money--fully half of what I

averaged every night. As the weeks went

by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The

tires on the old Chevy had

the consistency of penny balloons and

began to leak.

I had to fill them with air on the way

to work and again every

morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged

myself to the car to go home and

found four tires in the back seat. New

tires! There was no note, no

nothing, just those beautiful brand new

tires.

Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service

station. In exchange for his

mounting the new tires, I would clean

up his office. I remember it

took me a lot longer to scrub his floor

than it did for

him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of

five and it still wasn't

enough. Christmas was coming and I knew

there would be no money for

toys for the kids.

I found a can of red paint and started repairing and

painting some

old toys. Then hid them in the basement

so there would be something

for Santa to deliver on Christmas

morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing

patches on top of patches on

the boys pants and soon they would be too far

gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers

were drinking coffee in the

Big Wheel. These were the truckers,

Les, Frank, and Jim, and a

state trooper named Joe. A few

musicians were hanging

around after a gig at the

Legion and were dropping nickels in the

pinball machine. The

regulars all just sat around and talked

through the wee hours of

the morning and then left to get home

before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at

seven o'clock on Christmas

morning I hurried to the car. I was

hoping the kids wouldn't wake

up before I managed to get home and get

the presents from the basement and place them under

the tree. (We had cut down a

small cedar tree by the side of the

road down by the dump.) It was

still dark and I couldn't see much, but

there appeared to be some

dark shadows in the car-or was that just a

trick of the night? Something

certainly looked different, but it was

hard to tell what. When I reached

the car I peered warily into one of the

side windows. Then my jaw

dropped in amazement.

My old battered Chevy was filled full

to the top with boxes of all

shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the

driver's side door, crumbled

inside and kneeled in the front facing

the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of

the top box. Inside was

whole case of little blue jeans, sizes

2-10! I looked inside

another box: It was full of shirts to

go with the jeans. Then I

peeked inside some of the other boxes.

There was candy and nuts and

bananas and bags of groceries. There

was an enormous ham for

baking, and canned vegetables and

potatoes.

There was pudding and Jell-O and

cookies, pie filling and flour.

There was hole bag of laundry supplies

and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little

doll..

As I drove back through empty streets

as the sun slowly rose on the

most amazing Christmas Day of my life,

I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the

joy on the faces of my

little ones that precious morning.

....Yes, there were angels in Indiana

that long-ago December..

And they all hung out at the Big Wheel

truck stop....

[xlr8ted]

Way too long, stopped reading after 1960

[SuGaRNSpIcE]

i hate reading long things like that too but this just made me cry i couldnt stop reading

Way too long, stopped reading after 1960

[nomembername]

im sorry , but this made me cry

In September 1960, I woke up one

morning with six hungry babies

and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their

father was gone..

The boys ranged from three months to

seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than

a presence they feared.

Whenever they heard his tires crunch on

the gravel driveway they

would scramble to hide under their beds.

He did manage to leave $15 a week to

buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there

would be no more beatings,

but no food either.

If there was a welfare system in effect

in southern Indiana at that

time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked

brand new and then put on my

best homemade dress. loaded them into

the rusty old 51 Chevy

and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory,

store and restaurant in our

small town. No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car

and tried to be quiet while I

tried to convince whomever would listen

that I was willing to learn

or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went

to, just a few miles out of

town, was an old Root Beer Barrel

drive-in that had been converted

to a truck stop. It was called the Big

Wheel.

An old lady named Granny owned the

place and she peeked out of the

window from time to time at all those

kids. She needed someone on

the graveyard shift, 11 at night until

seven in the morning. She

paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that

night.

I raced home and called the teenager

down the street that baby-sat

for people. I bargained

with her to come and sleep on my sofa

for a dollar a night. She

could arrive with her pajamas on and

the kids would already be

asleep. This seemed like a good

arrangement to her, so we made a

deal.

That night when the little ones and I

knelt to say our prayers, we

all thanked God for finding Mommy a

job. And so I started at the

Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke

the baby-sitter up and sent

her home with one dollar of my tip

money--fully half of what I

averaged every night. As the weeks went

by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The

tires on the old Chevy had

the consistency of penny balloons and

began to leak.

I had to fill them with air on the way

to work and again every

morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged

myself to the car to go home and

found four tires in the back seat. New

tires! There was no note, no

nothing, just those beautiful brand new

tires.

Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service

station. In exchange for his

mounting the new tires, I would clean

up his office. I remember it

took me a lot longer to scrub his floor

than it did for

him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of

five and it still wasn't

enough. Christmas was coming and I knew

there would be no money for

toys for the kids.

I found a can of red paint and started repairing and

painting some

old toys. Then hid them in the basement

so there would be something

for Santa to deliver on Christmas

morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing

patches on top of patches on

the boys pants and soon they would be too far

gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers

were drinking coffee in the

Big Wheel. These were the truckers,

Les, Frank, and Jim, and a

state trooper named Joe. A few

musicians were hanging

around after a gig at the

Legion and were dropping nickels in the

pinball machine. The

regulars all just sat around and talked

through the wee hours of

the morning and then left to get home

before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at

seven o'clock on Christmas

morning I hurried to the car. I was

hoping the kids wouldn't wake

up before I managed to get home and get

the presents from the basement and place them under

the tree. (We had cut down a

small cedar tree by the side of the

road down by the dump.) It was

still dark and I couldn't see much, but

there appeared to be some

dark shadows in the car-or was that just a

trick of the night? Something

certainly looked different, but it was

hard to tell what. When I reached

the car I peered warily into one of the

side windows. Then my jaw

dropped in amazement.

My old battered Chevy was filled full

to the top with boxes of all

shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the

driver's side door, crumbled

inside and kneeled in the front facing

the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of

the top box. Inside was

whole case of little blue jeans, sizes

2-10! I looked inside

another box: It was full of shirts to

go with the jeans. Then I

peeked inside some of the other boxes.

There was candy and nuts and

bananas and bags of groceries. There

was an enormous ham for

baking, and canned vegetables and

potatoes.

There was pudding and Jell-O and

cookies, pie filling and flour.

There was hole bag of laundry supplies

and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little

doll..

As I drove back through empty streets

as the sun slowly rose on the

most amazing Christmas Day of my life,

I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the

joy on the faces of my

little ones that precious morning.

....Yes, there were angels in Indiana

that long-ago December..

And they all hung out at the Big Wheel

truck stop....

[tastey]

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

[elevatedflow]

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 ...

[jimk29]

I'll tell you what's sad, that you expect me to read that whole thing.

[nomembername]

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

[SuGaRNSpIcE]

oh u people have no <3

[deepspell]

im sorry , but this made me cry

In September 1960, I woke up one

morning with six hungry babies

and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their

father was gone..

The boys ranged from three months to

seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than

a presence they feared.

Whenever they heard his tires crunch on

the gravel driveway they

would scramble to hide under their beds.

He did manage to leave $15 a week to

buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there

would be no more beatings,

but no food either.

If there was a welfare system in effect

in southern Indiana at that

time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked

brand new and then put on my

best homemade dress. loaded them into

the rusty old 51 Chevy

and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory,

store and restaurant in our

small town. No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car

and tried to be quiet while I

tried to convince whomever would listen

that I was willing to learn

or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went

to, just a few miles out of

town, was an old Root Beer Barrel

drive-in that had been converted

to a truck stop. It was called the Big

Wheel.

An old lady named Granny owned the

place and she peeked out of the

window from time to time at all those

kids. She needed someone on

the graveyard shift, 11 at night until

seven in the morning. She

paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that

night.

I raced home and called the teenager

down the street that baby-sat

for people. I bargained

with her to come and sleep on my sofa

for a dollar a night. She

could arrive with her pajamas on and

the kids would already be

asleep. This seemed like a good

arrangement to her, so we made a

deal.

That night when the little ones and I

knelt to say our prayers, we

all thanked God for finding Mommy a

job. And so I started at the

Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke

the baby-sitter up and sent

her home with one dollar of my tip

money--fully half of what I

averaged every night. As the weeks went

by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The

tires on the old Chevy had

the consistency of penny balloons and

began to leak.

I had to fill them with air on the way

to work and again every

morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged

myself to the car to go home and

found four tires in the back seat. New

tires! There was no note, no

nothing, just those beautiful brand new

tires.

Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service

station. In exchange for his

mounting the new tires, I would clean

up his office. I remember it

took me a lot longer to scrub his floor

than it did for

him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of

five and it still wasn't

enough. Christmas was coming and I knew

there would be no money for

toys for the kids.

I found a can of red paint and started repairing and

painting some

old toys. Then hid them in the basement

so there would be something

for Santa to deliver on Christmas

morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing

patches on top of patches on

the boys pants and soon they would be too far

gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers

were drinking coffee in the

Big Wheel. These were the truckers,

Les, Frank, and Jim, and a

state trooper named Joe. A few

musicians were hanging

around after a gig at the

Legion and were dropping nickels in the

pinball machine. The

regulars all just sat around and talked

through the wee hours of

the morning and then left to get home

before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at

seven o'clock on Christmas

morning I hurried to the car. I was

hoping the kids wouldn't wake

up before I managed to get home and get

the presents from the basement and place them under

the tree. (We had cut down a

small cedar tree by the side of the

road down by the dump.) It was

still dark and I couldn't see much, but

there appeared to be some

dark shadows in the car-or was that just a

trick of the night? Something

certainly looked different, but it was

hard to tell what. When I reached

the car I peered warily into one of the

side windows. Then my jaw

dropped in amazement.

My old battered Chevy was filled full

to the top with boxes of all

shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the

driver's side door, crumbled

inside and kneeled in the front facing

the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of

the top box. Inside was

whole case of little blue jeans, sizes

2-10! I looked inside

another box: It was full of shirts to

go with the jeans. Then I

peeked inside some of the other boxes.

There was candy and nuts and

bananas and bags of groceries. There

was an enormous ham for

baking, and canned vegetables and

potatoes.

There was pudding and Jell-O and

cookies, pie filling and flour.

There was hole bag of laundry supplies

and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little

doll..

As I drove back through empty streets

as the sun slowly rose on the

most amazing Christmas Day of my life,

I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the

joy on the faces of my

little ones that precious morning.

....Yes, there were angels in Indiana

that long-ago December..

And they all hung out at the Big Wheel

truck stop....