Ah, the innocence of youth, or Santa Claus is coming to town.

Do you remember the innocence of youth?  I mean your youth?  Remember when the world was fresh and new and every discovery was a miracle like a flower opening before you.?  Growing up was fun and each day taught us something new.  I think I was probably in the third or Fourth grade when I discovered there was a world outside of Nickerson, Kansas.  Back then life was dirt roads, playing in the creek and waiting for Momma to get home and feed us.  There was no television to watch at our house.  The radio was for listening to the stock market report so dad would know how much the wheat would bring.  At some point in time I recall the President of the United States talking to us in what was known as "a fireside chat."  That was fun and we always set around the pot bellied stove and listened.  Made it seem like we were right there with him.  And we always slept better after he reassured us that the nation was in good shape and better days were coming.  Seems he promised us a chicken in every pot, or something like that.
It seems in my mind that I can remember Roosevelt talking.  I also clearly remember hearing the words "The war is over!"  I can clearly see us setting around the radio in the last home we owned in Nickerson.  I know looking back, that this is not the case.  Roosevelt gave his last fireside chat in 1944.  I would have been 3 years old.  World War II ended in 1945 when I would have been 4 years old.  We did not leave the Ailmore place until I was in 2nd or 3rd grade.  So I think we no doubt listened to Roosevelt while on the Ailmore place and I transferred that in my little brain to the house we owned.  When I heard the war ended we had to be the same place.  The memories are there, just not quite like they really happened.  Or maybe I heard a re-enactment and took it as a memory.
And what does all this have to do with Santa Claus, you may ask!  Well, I have a little friend and her name is Madison.  We call her Madi.  She is 9 years old and she is beautiful.  Remember the Breck girl?  Madi has huge blue eyes, a Madonna face and a smile that is like a glimpse into heaven.  The best part of it is she has a pure innocence that almost brings me to tears.  She always hugs me and asks how I am.  Just an honest to goodness little angel that cares about all the people in her world.  And today she explained to me about Santa Claus.  Did you know he lives at the North Pole?  He spends all year making toys.  The conversation was two sided.
"Well, yeah Madi, but there is a recession going on so things aren't looking so good for you this year.  How is he going to get toys?"
"Well, he will make them."
"Well, he can't make them if he does not have money for the raw materials!"
"Well, he has money!  He has more money than anyone in the world."
"Ok, but he is old and fat, so how can he make toys for everyone in the whole world?"
"Well, Lou, he has helpers.  Do you know he can hear everything you are saying and he probably will not give you any toys.  Nothing!  Because he knows everything!  And he sees everything!"
Well, when I found out that he could hear and see everything, I acquiesced and recanted so I could get back on the good side of Santa Clause.  This made Madi happy and she thinks I may get something this year.  I sure hope she is right.  And I do so hope she maintains her beliefs as long as possible because all too soon she will be walking across the stage to get her diploma and heading out to take her place in the world.  A world that will no doubt get bigger every day for her.

Love you, Madi!

Nickerson, Kansas Elementary School, 1945-1953

This may take more than one posting. I woke up this morning thinking about grade school. When I can not fall asleep at night, one of my favorite things is to remember the one mile walk to and from school. I picture the houses and try to remember the names of the people who lived in them. It usually works if I follow it with the Lord's Prayer.

What I woke up remembering this morning was the music room. At least what passed for the music room before they moved in a small school building and set it on the corner and that was the music room. This room was on the second story. Cultural Department.

The windows in the whole school were huge, very tall. Every window in the school was covered with heavy blackout curtains that were fastened to the sides. This was in case the Japanese were to fly over here and end up in the center of the United States in a town named Nickerson, Kansas, population 1,100, we could close them and no light would get out so they would not bomb that building. Homeland Security!

Once a month, we were all called to the central hallway, which doubled as a lunch room and given a glass of orange juice. There was a small room off the first grade classroom that doubled as a sick room. Health Department!

I think that was so we would not get Rickets, or something like that. Our meals were cooked in the kitchen by Mrs. Ritchie. Her husband was the Janitor. He committed suicide shortly after the 8th grade, or so we heard. Probably about the 4th grade one of the boys in our town was killed in the war and the whole school went to the train station to meet the coffin. All I remember is looking up his marker in the cemetary and it says "He sleeps in Iwo Jima."

Also in fourth grade, a classmate named Beth (You know who you are!) brought a popcorn ball to school and dropped it in the stool in the bathroom and blamed it on me! Said I grabbed it away and threw it in there! If I had touched it I would have eaten it! Mrs. Howe was very upset with me and wrote on my report card, "Louella teases the other kids on the playground." So much for the Justice Department!

Fifth grade I had a poem published in the Jack and Jill(?) magazine. Other highlights: Last day of school in 8th grade, the band played outside and a bird pooped on Gay Withrow's cap. Mother had cancer and the church ladies sewed all us kids clothes for school except Jake who only wore overalls anyway. Mother recuperated and lived to be 80 years old. Miss Barkis, the music teacher, married the principals son, David Houston. Miss Donnough, the first grade teacher, married someone. Mrs. Howe, the fourth grade teacher got a thorn in her intestine and nearly died.

Oh, for the days of trivial nonesense!! And to think I have remembered some of this stuff for 63 years!!!

School days, school days, dear old golden rule days!

Reading and writing and 'rithmetic,

taught to the tune of a hickory stick!