When my mother was a little girl, during the great depression, their egg farm was close to the railroad tracks. Frequently, "bums" as my mother called them, who had hopped a train would wander up from the tracks and ask my grandfather for work or food. They always offered the man a sandwich or maybe some soup that they had on hand. My mother would sometimes sit and talk with them (a little girl, only 5 or 6 years old), and they would tell her stories. Nobody ever threatened the family or my mother. The men were always grateful for the food. And no one was ever afraid. Today, things are so different, people live in fear, myself included. I put my pistol on when I go to dump the compost! I tell myself it is because there might be a dog, or rabid raccoon or even a mountain lion (because they have been spotted not too far from here). But I wear it for fear of human predators as well. What a sad, miserable world this has become.
Posted on: Tue, 20 Aug 2013 22:32:55 +0000
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