How to Survive

I recall when I was a teenager sitting in our family room with a couple of sisters and my grandmother. My grandmother made a comment which struck me as odd.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't been born with so many talents. I wish I just had one.

We teased her about her humility, but she was quite serious and went on to explain.

If I had only had one talent I would always have known what to do. But God blessed me with talent in several areas, and I never knew what to focus on. So I never got really good at anything.

I know at least part of what she said is true. My grandmother was multi-talented. I knew she could write. She was published several times, but I don't know if she was ever paid for her work. She painted with water colors. I thought some of what she did was quite nice. She was excellent with cloth and thread, able to make all kinds of clothes. She liked to sing. Don't know if she ever played a musical instrument. Don't think so. She made things with clay. She designed beautiful flower gardens, and arbors, bird sanctuaries. Regarding the arts she was multi-talented.

But growing up poor in rural Iowa those talents had few chances to develop to their potential. Most of her talent remained quite raw.

I found out via some old photographs that Grandmother also liked to play-act. She and her best friend would get their husbands and others in the community to dress up like old pioneers and put on skits. She loved to have fun.

I think that's why I love her so. Grandma knew how to have fun. She knew the importance of just being silly sometimes. She appreciated good humor and often told us (me) jokes meant for adults. Not dirty jokes. Well, not too dirty. I still recall this story she told me, which actually happened to be true. I'm sure you'll see what was funny before I get to the end, but I'm going to relate the entire thing as I remember her telling it to me.

You know your mother's cousins, John and William? They both live in the same town and they both have sons named Peter. Well, John's son got sick with whooping cough a while back. He's better now, but at church one Sunday, Edna - you know Edna - was talking with my cousin, Clare. They got to talking about John and William, and then Clare asks Edna, "By the way, how is John's Peter?" Edna looks all worried and says, "Why I didn't know he had hurt it."

That's about as blue as Grandma got, but she had that Barney Rubble kind of laugh that was just so contagious.

Another story she told me about a friend of hers who's husband was letting her drive the car. He got mad because the woman was driving with the wheels on the dotted lines separating the lanes. When he yelled at her to get in her lane she responded by telling him that she was supposed to drive that way. "You silly woman! What if everyone thought that?"

Grandma's sense of humor. She gave it to her daughter, who passed it on to me. I think that's why I have made this long. I know how to laugh.