Watauga Democrat. [volume] (Boone, Watauga County, N.C.) 1888-current, 1912-03-28
THE OLD WASH PLACE

l.. aurdly young that while
Tears are trembling on my lashes at
her memory smile
Az the very yonngness OF her; Just q
little girl she seems,
Smiling at me from the distance. sing
ing to me in my dreams
Lullabies we all remember; but mos
tly see her face
Smiling through the clouds of steam
that most hide the old wash place.
Sometimes in my dreams dogwood
blossom glimmers in her hair,
And hear redbird whistle, and the
dream is free FROM care
Then a man comes in the picture like
a dream, and goes away, :.
Waving to the little mother from the
ranks Of men in gray:
And from then the dogwOod blossoms
never glimmer any more.
And the rehbrd sings nUlonger round
thu wash place as Of yore.
Three of us-and just the little bit o.
mother to the brood!
Singing while her heart was breaking
IN the WOODLAND SOIiLu0e
With the homely tubs and kettle and
the soap gnurd and the stick
The old battling stick! The memory
catches at my throat SO quick
That I scarce can choke the sob ba ok
at the picture Of the face
Smiling hravplv from the distance
thro the steam of the wash place
Yes, carried water for her, while
the baby went to sleep
With the songs that sister sung her
where the wash Law in "A heap.
And sought dry sticks and piled
them meath the kettle-all nv iov
In the dreams that come back to me
is that was born bov,
And cou'n help the little mother, and
was glad to hel" her, too.
in the tasks about the wash place
where there was so much to do.
Can wee babies understand it-wnen
u hearts about to break?
We were babies, but we seemed to
know. somehow, for mothers sa ke
We must help to bear n burden which
we could not cOmnrchend,
And our puny arms about her seem
cd to strengthen her and lend
Her strength no little bit o. mother
could have got elsewhere,
As she toiled about the wash place
with her heart bowed down with
care.
Some DAYS tasks seemed ovnrdreary,
ard the hours seemed Ovprlong-
But she'd catch our eyes fixed on her
and would tremble into song.
Bnt the world of heartbrpnk throh
hiDg thro' tha ronnterfpited iov
Somehow would play on the heart.
strings of the little girl and b0v
And the little baby sister, and we'd
snnggle face to fac,
Heart 10 heart. her arms about us
kneeling at the old wash place.
Then one morning cane y meSSage-
camein With the mornings CLEAN
How'it came is lost or hidden in the
shadows of the dream,
But with it h0pc went out from her,
and she seemed to hark no more
For a voice across the disrancp, for a
foHtstep at the door:
And she knce!ed there in the wash
place, kneeled with sister girl aud
me.
And know now that moment was
Eer.sou!s Gethsemane!
Then the wasnihgs came more often,
there were other heaps Of clothes:
Day 10y day he clouds of sndsy steam
from the old kettle rose,
Day by day her love grew stronger
in the worry and the smart
or her hrartache she would rush to
and would clasp us to her heart,
And she'd strive to coax her lips to
curve into snatch of song
But the wash place called and called
her, and its tasks were hard and
long.
Not loug since | heard wome n say,
III .sneering tones and low:
II uh! his mother did our washing,
my own mother told me sou
Whittier than the dogwood blossom
Swerter than it e'er could be
Shona the truth of that vile whisper,
for she did 1t all for ina.
and for sister girl and baby! Oh, the
whisper-it was base!
But a soul was born to heaven from
that lowly old wash place.
Why, it doesn't seem that mother was
quite grown up W 'en she died!
Such little bit o. mother! On, the
years a2e long and wide
Since she went away and left us, with
the Old smile on her face,
Leaving US but just a memory of the
homely old wash place;
l know father heckOned to her-by
the look that overcast
Her sweet face-but we still miss her,
shall as long as life shall last.
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