One of the chores in our long summers of work was blackberry picking day. Oh, how I dreaded it! I hated picking blackberries. But in our house refusal to help was no option. We all put on long pants and long sleeves ostensibly to ward off chigger bites. But it never worked! Invariably one, or maybe two, chiggers found their way into a person’s bellybutton and caused misery to the victim for several days.
Then there were the flies. The gnats. The mosquitoes. And sometimes bees to contend with. Besides that, the sweat pouring off of you from being overdressed on a hot day in the full sun. Do you see why I dreaded those days?
We all went to the woods to pick berries. The big people carried the large galvanized tubs which we also used for canning green beans on an open fire outside, and for the Saturday bath time.
We younger ones had our own little buckets which we filled and poured into the big tub. Finally, when the two or three big tubs were full, we could all go home and get out of those clothes and try to wash off the chiggers.
But that wasn’t just a one day thing. We knew in the next few days we would be tramping out again to the woods for more berries when that harvest had bee canned and put away for winter use. The memories of those hot, tough days had faded somewhat in winter when we tasted delicious blackberry pies. And in the summer, there were blackberry pies with homemade ice cream. Mother saved the cream from the cow’s milk in the cool cellar till there was enough for a freezer full of ice cream. We took turns turning the handle. There were never any leftovers! And there were other blessings, too. There is no way to describe the smell of fresh blackberries cooking on the stove getting ready to go into the Ball canning jars. And Mother’s pie crust was a taste of heaven. There was no going to the store and picking up a couple of frozen crusts. She used lard which today horrifies my doctor. The lard was rendered from the pigs which had been harvested in the winter time. Nothing was wasted. Today we complain when we see the prices on food and commodities that we need. Complaints about food prices are common today.
I wonder how many of us could stand up to the rigors of those day? But I am reminded that gas prices for our old Ford truck were probably 25 cents a gallon, if that.
In the Narnia stories from C. S. Lewis, the children found when they finally got to Aslan’s country (our heaven) that all of the good and wonderful things from the old land were there. From both there home in England, as well as Narnia. The precious friends, their families, the memories of their time together, and Aslan himself (our Lord Jesus). Take heart, my friends, the best is yet to be! The hard times here are tempering by the knowledge of what awaits us there!
Thoughts From the Garden 