About 1952 I was Born Again. What a great experience. God had been so good to me – many happy and funny experiences for instance.
In my early conversion after reading the Bible, I asked Mr Porter “What is the tuthee?” Tithe. Was I embarrassed.
Thank you for reading Eleanor’s blog. I’m Eleanor’s adopted grand-daughter from NZ, and I’ve been doing this blog for Grandma. What does it mean to be born again?
We recommend attending an Alpha course in your area to find out more. Alpha is for people who have questions.
Becoming a believer in Christ changes everything. You undergo a transformation, just like the butterfly. Life takes on new meaning. Eleanor became new at the age of 33.
Anyone who is joined to Christ is a new being; the old is gone, the new has come. All this is done by God, who through Christ changed us from enemies into his friends and gave us the task of making others his friends also. 2 Corinthians 5:17-18
Eleanor kept the faith, ran the race and fought the fight, entering the Kingdom of God on Friday the 21st July 2017.
I had never been out in the working world in my life so here at 48 (in 1967) I am a widow and must work. I enjoyed my work as a nurse aide. I took several short courses at Junior College.
One Christmas after working only two mornings at Majestic Towers I was handed an envelope with my Christmas Bonus. After counting over $200 I took it back and told the director she made a mistake and gave me all the help’s bonuses. She laughed and said, “it’s all yours Eleanor, go take a cruise and have a good time.” How naive can one be at 50 years old?
For never being out in the world I was quite brave, I did go to Michigan and went on many job interviews, even into the wealthy areas, but did feel out-of-place being called a Nanny, so went to work for the Pratt family, a red-headed girl 8, boy 10, and their Dad.
While in Michigan I got my High School Diploma and entered Junior College. Bobby saw my curriculum and thought I should take something easier. I was going to cancel the next day but thought, I have nothing to lose even if I fail the courses. I made B’s and C’s.
Boy did I have to study though. I didn’t do so well in learning Bridge or driving a car. Maybe one isn’t supposed to learn everything after 50 or 60.
When I was a little girl we had a cellar. In the fall we would put all our veg in the dark cellar. It was just a dirt floor in those days. We would store barrels of apples and pears from our trees – carrots, cabbages, potatoes, beets and all the canned fruits and veg, then in a special pantry in the house, we stored flour, cornmeal, and plums in big crocks.
We sure ate good all winter, the dark cellar was real dark, no lights in those days. One day I grabbed a mouse when I went to get an apple, did I ever scream.
Walking with Mom
When I was about four I remember that Mom would take me for a walk through the cemetery, then we would come home and have bread and milk for lunch. Then Mom would play the piano.
I often wonder where my brother Floyd was – he was just one year to the month younger than I. I can’t ever remember him being with us – all my other sisters and brothers were in school. Those were happy times. But where was Floyd?
We got one bath a week in my younger days. My Mom had a big round galvanized tub – two at a time got in the tub. The tub was placed by a big pot-belly stove. I got out to dry and backed my little rear end into that stove. I had to sit on pillows for weeks.
Then Pop put a furnace in the house with registers and then a bathroom inside with a big white tub. What a luxury in those days.
We even had toilet paper – no more outside toilet using Sears Roebuck catalog, no more putting pee pots under the bed at night and worse yet having to empty them out in the back house every morning.
My children how fortunate to be born in a more modern age.
Page 19, A dumb mother
I was kind of a young dumb mother when Bobby was born. He was such a handsome little boy that I made the mistake of telling him they mixed him up in the hospital – at my age now I kind of forget just how I told him, but I am sure he can tell you how I told him, because such as that, little children never forget and it affects their whole life.
But he was such a good baby and really MaMa’s little darling for five years. Then I did another dumb thing. Ronnie was born and I turned all my love and attention to her – Your dumb mother.
When Edward was about four I took him into a Goodyear store. He walked over to a rack of fish poles and pushed them over. Embarrassing.
Do you remember Edward the day you walked up to the large cement flower-pot and pushed it over and the people that owed it sent me a bill?
Do you remember the day you tipped an old wooden ice box over on you and you lived?
Do you remember when you went up the steps leading to the roof of the house next door and fell down either from the roof or high step landing about four inches from a steel stake and you lived? You did turn blue though.
Do you remember the time you tipped the little gas range over and you ended up covered with bacon grease and coffee grounds?
All this under five.
I leave the rest of this page after I think of something nice. If I don’t think of one thing before I die – you fill it in.
But when you reached 40 years you did get to be loving, kind thoughtful honest and good.
In 1991 I became addicted to baseball, it didn’t matter what team – just as long as it was a game. But now 1992 I watch the Braves, even catch myself talking to the players. I’m not too good at knowing fouls or strikes yet – so I do not approve of the umpire’s calls always. I think I should have a hatchet.
I was a pretty good little girl but I did try smoking when I was about nine – we made mega cigarettes out of burlap bags and newspaper. Don’t let my great grandkids see this. Oh well, where can one find burlap bags in this day and age anyway?
Will someone tell me why it is always easier for me to try to open doors just the opposite way of what they are meant to work, or why I can’t remember faces? No-one remembers names – but faces! It is pretty embarrassing when for three Sundays in succession, “is this your first time visiting our church?”
Don’t talk about my poor spelling after I die – just laugh, ha ha.