Experiences of Sallie Eugenia Morganís early Childhood, part 2

Posted: 2008-04-04T09:46:21Z

By this time, I was age seven. A little brother, Knighton, was born and had died. Pascal still depended upon his big sister to "carry me" and be his constant companion, and was by my side or "on my back" always. It was a hot, dry summer, and on a particularly, hot day my father stumbled into the kitchen door about noon, and fell unconscious on the floor.

I was in the yard amusing Pascal while our mother prepared the mid-day meal. I heard the fall, ran into the house to find the catastrophe of our father lying helpless. It is... ... still a mystery to me how my mother got him to the bed and on it. I didn't help, but ran back, at my mother's bidding to get Pascal. We had two doors - a front door and a back door. Mother said go watch the road and stop anyone who may pass and call for help. With Pascal by the hand, we stood watch for hours at a time. Ho one passed. Somehow the afternoon was gone and night work had to be done. I helped with that, but much was neglected. Milking, feeding, etc.. I think my mother slipped out at times after dark as she thought of things that must be done. I kept watch for someone to help us.

That night passed somehow. Papa was still unconscious and with high fever. Mama was praying under her breath for God to send help. Morning came, still papa in a coma, no food, only a few drops of water. I am sure my mother did not close her eyes all night, though I must have. Morning, and we both became hopeless, but papa lingered breathing hard. Mama drew water from the well and we bathed his face and head constantly. Along the middle of the afternoon, when we had almost given up hope, I was with Pascal under the shade of a tree in the front yard when I saw approaching a strange figure of a woman in a long flowing white robe, or dress. The skirt reached her feet, and her hair was hanging loosely to her waist. She had a white scarf over her head and looked to me like someone in a dream. I ran to the back door and called my mother to come look. Then I ran to the front door and let her in. She passed near enough to see my father on the bed, went through the door to the kitchen, and spoke to my mother: "I'm so tired and thirsty. Could I have a drink of cool water from your well?"

Mama said "Surely, I will draw a fresh bucket" and left to do that. When she returned and the lady drank and thanked her for it, she looked at my mother and said: "You have a very sick husband. Would you mind if I have a few minutes alone with him?" Mama said: "I'm so glad you came. We have had no help and no way to get word of his illness to anyone." (Telephones had not been invented) The lady went through the door to papa's bed, fell on her knees. (I left a crack in the door and watched.) She had removed the scarf from her head and raised her hands in the attitude of prayer. I was greatly impressed, and my mother seemed to realize the help she needed had come.

After some time, the lady rose, returned to the kitchen and spoke with my mother again. "When your husband awakens in the morning, he will be very hungry, so I would suggest that when the chickens go to roost that you select a nice hen, dress it, and put it in a pot to boil slowly all night. When he awakens, give him all the broth he will drink." It seemed as if a great load had been lifted when she left us, walking silently and swiftly down the road again. We watched her as long as we could see her white robe and wondered if we would ever learn from whence she came. - We never did.

Category: ->Family Histories | Posted by: Linda


Apr 04, 14:07:25 Linda wrote:

I love telling this story when people in the Sunday School classes I teach want to discuss the pro and cons of the existence of angels.

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