THROUGH
MOUNTAIN MISTS
Early Settlers of
Their
Descendants...Their Stories...Their Achievements
Lifting the
Mists of History on Their Way of Life
By: Ethelene Dyer Jones
Women in this present age often
wear many
"hats"- career, community activist, wife, mother, grandmother. This
time of year we set aside a day to salute mothers and give credit where
due to
the women who have made a difference in the role of child-nurturing.
I recall a time back in 1948
when I had
accompanied Rev. Claude Boynton and Mrs. Boynton on a speaking
engagement to
represent the then new and struggling
"How does this relate to
Mother's
Day?" you ask. No, it was not Mother's Day weekend, but as we
approached
I learned later, by using the
"Oxford
Dictionary of Quotations," that Rev. Boynton's statement on "the
hands that rock the cradle" was the only quotation of a little known
writer named William Ross Wallace who died in 1881. He made that
insightful
two-line saying in "John o'London's Treasure Trove." I concluded that
Rev. Boynton must have been well-read, indeed, to remember and quote
the
cradle/ruler adage, and to launch upon a lecture about it. Maybe
already he was
preparing for his Mother's Day sermon which would not be too many weeks
in the
future.
The scene of
I also engaged in some self-pity
on the
remainder of that trip, thinking that my own mother had to make her
contribution to the lives of her four children early-on, because she
had died
on Valentine's Day in 1945. There were so many things I wanted to ask
her, to
learn from her before I myself was launched out on my particular
journey into
life. What were her dreams for me? Was I in any way fulfilling them?
Then I thought of many who had
stepped in
after her demise to be a surrogate mother to me. There were my mother's
sisters, Avery and Ethel Collins, spinsters, with no children of their
own. Yet
they had the "mothering instinct" and spent much time with nieces and
nephews, giving them advice, teaching them practical lessons on life
and
living. From them I learned much about cooking, sewing, ironing and
house-keeping, tasks that fell to me in my own home when I was a lass
of
fourteen. Add another name to my surrogate mother list, Aunt Northa
Dyer
Collins. She lived in sight of me, and it was but a brief walk to her
farmhouse
from ours. She was my father's sister and her husband, Uncle Harve, was
my
mother's brother. From them I learned multiple lessons in living, one
of the
main ones of which was to have ambition and dreams and to work toward
those
dreams. I don't think "impossible" was in their vocabulary.
At high school I had experienced
the love
of teachers who went the second mile and sometimes were in the role of
surrogate mothers. I can name several: Mrs. Grapelle Mock who taught
me, among
many other things, that I could do public speaking without letting
stage fright
overtake me. Mrs. Elizabeth Elliott, Mrs. Flora Nicholson, and Mrs.
Elizabeth
Berry taught me the beauty of words and the joy of putting them
together in
readable, incisive poetry and prose. Mrs. Geneva Hughes, who taught and
was
librarian as well, planted in me a life-long love for good books. She
also
invited me to spend nights in her home on
And at college I had other
surrogate
mothers. Mrs. Staton, English and journalism teacher, nurtured my
desire to be
a writer by making me editor of the college newspaper and co-editor of
the
college yearbook. She, too, invited me to her home and made me feel a
special
part of her life. Dr. Pearl Nix, psychology teacher, knew how to "pour
on
the work" to her students, but made us realize that there is no limit
to
our ability to learn except through our own limited desires to
accomplish. Miss
Edith Sayer was our librarian and taught mathematics, too. She was an
example
that even with a mild handicap, one's life can be fulfilling and an
inspiration
to others. Miss Charlotte Sheets lifted my level of appreciation for
good music
as she led the college chorus to be good enough to be invited to sing
at the
Georgia Baptist Convention and notable churches throughout
As I think back on William Ross
Wallace's
quotation, "The hand that rocks the cradle/Is the hand that rules the
world," I am grateful I heard this when I was eighteen, and that it
lingered with me throughout life. Rev. Boynton may not have realized
that the
quotation would sink itself into his young parishioner's memory. What
we say
does make a difference.
I am grateful for my mother's
influence on
my life, and for all of those who stepped in, relatives, teachers,
others, to
be strong surrogate mothers to me when I needed a helping hand and
direction in
life. One of the greatest honors that has come to me in this life is
not my
career as a teacher, but that I was entrusted to be a mother of two
wonderful
children, a grandmother to seven fine grandchildren, and now, just this
April,
the great-grandmother to Gavin and Brenna. "The hand(s) that rock the
(cradle)s" of these two have heard my evaluation: "They are the most
beautiful great grandchildren ever, and they have a significant role in
the
future!"
Happy Mother's Day! Enjoy your
memories.
Tell some mother she is special.
c2006 by
Ethelene Dyer
Jones; published May 11, 2006 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville,
GA.
Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
[Ethelene Dyer
Jones is a retired educator,
freelance writer, poet, and historian. She may be reached at
e-mail edj0513@windstream.net;
phone 478-453-8751; or mail 1708 Cedarwood Road, Milledgeville, GA
31061-2411.]
Updated August 8,
2009
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