THE POND, THE FORK, AND THE MUD PIES

I think was six years old, when we moved into our new house in Theo Mississippi. It was white with a shiny silver roof. It was in the same neighborhood where we had lived since I could remember. In the new house, my little sister and I each had our own bedroom. The living room in this house was bigger than in the house we had moved from, and we had a bathroom with a tub and water inside the house. We had hot water, too, so we no longer had to heat water to bathe in. We had moved up in the world. Our yard was about the same size as our old one but the layout was a bit different. We had more yard in the front but the side of the house was about the same distance away from the road that the front of our old house was, but it sat on a hill several feet higher than the road.

The house was much nicer, too. It had painted wood inside and nice, aluminum-framed, energy-efficient windows. It even had a storm house. There were several nice, big trees and one of them was a walnut tree. There were plum trees and persimmon trees and beautiful rose bushes all along the property next to the road. The landlord had a cornfield by the side of the driveway in front of the house and he told us we could get all the corn we wanted any time we wanted it. It was like a paradise.

We were excited about our new home, and so was our dog, Clete. I remember making mud pies there for the first time. Somebody gave us an Easy Bake Oven. It didn’t work, but we pretended it did. We made a grocery store and stocked it with empty containers that our grandmother saved for us when they were all used up. We had cereal boxes, oat boxes, milk cartons and jugs, butter bowls, and lots of empty cans. We would play store for hours.

One day, not long after we moved in, a good rain came. There was plenty of mud for some mud pies. I guess we got tired of that after a while. How many mud pies can a kid make anyway? We were just outside the bathroom window and the siding was made from sheets of something white with an orange peel texture. I just remember how pretty and white it was. I think I threw one of the mud pies and it stuck on the white wall. Then maybe my sister threw another one. The next thing I remember is both of us with our backs to the wall, bending over with our hands in the red clay mud, throwing it behind us between our legs, all over that pretty white wall.

When my grandmother saw what we had done she was more than a little upset. After the yelling and the lecture, she made us clean up the mess. We scrubbed as hard as we could for what seemed like forever but we just could not get it back to the pretty clean white that it was before. Our grandmother saw that we had done our best so she tried, but those stains never did come clean. They were still there six years later.

There was a pond on the other side of the small field behind the house but it was fenced in with barbed wire. We weren’t allowed to go there by ourselves, until several years later. I once got some water from there to take to school for science class. We looked at a drop of it under a microscope and saw a creature with a big head and huge horns. It looked like a bull with no legs. When I was older I went there by myself a couple of times but that was it. I never went back. It just wasn’t as exciting as I had imagined for all those years.

When we were older, I was annoying my sister and she got mad and threw some tea on me. I had a bad temper, and before I could think, I threw a fork at her and the points of the prongs stuck in the side of her head. I was sorry I did it when I realized how bad she could have been hurt. I could have even put her eye out.

Sometimes as I look back at my childhood, I remember some things that I’m not proud of. I’ve often wished that I could forget every bad thing that I’ve done and every bad thing that has ever happened in my life, but I realized that those bad experiences are part of what has made me who I am today. Testing and trials build character and how we react in any given situation tells us, as well as others, what kind of person we really are. We should learn from our mistakes and wrong choices. If nothing else, we should at least realize that we can’t make it on our own, and that prompts us to seek the help of our Creator.

So, when you look back at your past and remember things you wish you could forget, take a closer look at those things to see if you learned anything from them. If you didn’t, then examining them may help you to put everything in perspective and maybe you’ll be able to deal with your past a little bit better. Then, leave the past behind and hold on to the good memories and cherish each and every one of them. They are part of what made you who you are, too.

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