The Joy in Growing Up

The joy in this story is about growing up in a home with my parents, brothers, and sisters; and knowing we were loved by our parents. Our life was hard, we did not own the house that we lived in, or the farmland that we worked. We were sharecroppers. My parents were the offspring of freed slaves. When my father's parents died, he was thirteen years old. He sharecropped to provide for himself and his six younger siblings. My parents married in 1905 and became parents to eleven sons and three daughters. We all worked in the field together. We ate all meals together. That was enjoyable because mama was the best cook ever. I do not remember any of us ever saying to mama "I don't like the food."

There were many tragedies that brought sorrows and grief. For example, in 1940, my youngest brother was killed by a mule when he was only fifteen years old. That caused almost unbearable grief for mama. In the ensuing years, four more of my brothers were killed.

The hope that I have is to live on earth when God's kingdom comes and his will is done.