Just a Boy by Willie P. Smith I Remember writing prompt entry |
I remember dad passing out while plowing a field with a one horse walking plow. He was in his 30's at the time. I was watching from the back yard of our farm house when he fell. The doctor said he had a severe stroke. I was eleven at the time, and didn't know I had a very large task ahead of me. My brother was seventeen and had taken a job at my uncle's grocery store. The store was some miles away in the town of Benton, Illinois. Yes, I was only eleven, but I became the man of the family that day. I was still in school, I believe was in the fifth grade, so when I got home after school, I only had a short time for plowing. I would put in a full day's work on Saturday and got the day off on Sunday. I had never
done any plowing myself, but watched my dad many times. The crop had to be put in and I was the only one left to do it. My horse Ponto was my partner. Between the two of us, we prepared the ground and planted fifty acres. Dad said that would be enough feed for the stock for awhile. That meant I would probably be behind the plow again. on my day off, which was supposed to be Sundays, I would spend taking care of the acre of Rocky Mountain watermelon I, planted. My grandad had an argument with my dad, "The boy isn't going to be able to do all that work by himself." But I proved him wrong. Of course, my mom caused me to grow about three feet when she said she was proud of me. Dad taught me the method he used when plowing then turned horse and plow over to me. I remember Ponto obeying my every command, We Gee, Hawed through fifty acres. My mom would come to the field each day. She would ask," what do you want for supper." She would leave a quart jar of fresh water under a nearby shade tree. Funny, you can do things you can't do when there's no one else to do it.
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