The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

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from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge


The Blessed Event

By Nancy Cornette Kessler © 1986

Issue: May, 1986

This picture will give you an idea of what our roads were like in the 1920's & 30's. This picture was made during the Christmas holiday when Papa's sister brought her roommate home with her. This was just before the new baby was expected in 1926. My father and the visitor are standing by the car.This picture will give you an idea of what our roads were like in the 1920's & 30's. This picture was made during the Christmas holiday when Papa's sister brought her roommate home with her. This was just before the new baby was expected in 1926. My father and the visitor are standing by the car.It was the year 1926, sometime before Christmas, that my mother gathered us children around her one night when we were preparing for bed and told us that some time after the New Year of 1927, possibly in February, we would have a new baby brother or sister.

There were seven children at home at that time. My older sister was in Roanoke, Virginia in business school. I was 13 at the time and old enough to know my mother's figure was changing, but there had never been anything of this nature told to us. My older brother and sister were both in high school.

I took this news passively as there seemed to always be a baby or younger child for me to tend to. The youngest child at that time, a boy, was about two and a half years old.

Christmas came and went and January was a cold, snowy month. Then, February was there with the usual excitement of Valentines Day at school, when the boys and girls exchanged Valentines from a large decorated box on the teacher's desk. This created almost as much excitement and fun as the annual Christmas tree.

All of our family were sleeping soundly and snugly in our feather beds one night, when we were suddenly awakened by my father, when it seemed we had just gotten to sleep.

It was customary in our family when a new baby came to send the younger children to my grandparents house, which was just around the turn from our house.

My paternal grandmother and grandfather had passed away in 1924 and 1925, and their house was occupied by my uncle and his new wife, so my mother had arranged with our nearest neighbor, who lived close by to keep the younger children if needed for the night of the birthing.

This picture was made on the same road in dry weather in the same place, in front of my grandfather's house in 1926.This picture was made on the same road in dry weather in the same place, in front of my grandfather's house in 1926.Papa came into the girls' room and told us to get up and get dressed, that we were going to Mrs. Parson's to spend the rest of the night and that Mama was sick and the Doctor was coming. It was between two and three a.m.

When I got downstairs, my mother was sitting in a chair smiling, but I could see she was in pain. I flung myself into her arms and cried and said, "Mama, please don't send me to Mrs. Parson's. I'm big enough to stay here and help."

My older sister seemed to be in charge and she had dressed the younger children and had them ready to go. She looked at mother and said, "Let her stay. I'll need her." Then as the children left, led by another brother, she said, "Nancy, Papa and Richard (the older of the boys) have gone with the team of horses to pull the Doctor's car out of the mud. He is stuck between here and Independence."

Suddenly she looked at Mama and her eyes were as big as saucers and she said, "I'm afraid the baby is coming before the Doctor gets here. Go get Aunt Senie."

Aunt Senie was actually Sena Howard, a black woman whom Papa had hired to stay with Mama when the baby came and the two weeks she was required to rest and stay in bed. We children fondly called her Aunt Senie. She was not actually a midwife, except to the black people who lived in the area, but was much in demand by the white people in the community when there was sickness, a birth or for housework. She was a capable, respected lady.

This picture was made about 1921. My younger brother Edward on our faithful "Ole Thelma." At her feet sits our family pet Frank and in the background my older sister Lenora, holding some tomato plants from a neighbor.This picture was made about 1921. My younger brother Edward on our faithful "Ole Thelma." At her feet sits our family pet Frank and in the background my older sister Lenora, holding some tomato plants from a neighbor.I needed no further urging when I saw what was happening. I grabbed my coat and toboggan and with my heart in my throat, struck out through that dark patch of woods. There was still snow on the ground and the eerie sound of the hoot owls and the rustling in the leaves of the small animals in the darkness. Those sounds, with a pale moon hiding behind the clouds, sent me scurrying even faster the one and a half miles I had to go. My heart was pounding and I was shaking with fright when I finally saw ahead of me the shape of the small house in which Aunt Senie lived. Alas, I also saw a creek with a narrow log across it over which I had to pass to get to the house. Needless to say about half way across, down I went into that cold ice clogged water.

I pulled myself out, with my heavy overshoes full of water, impeding my progress, but I finally stumbled tearfully up to the door soaked to the skin and pounded loudly on the door and called, "Aunt Senie!" She was at the door almost at once and exclaimed, "Lawsey Mercy, Child. What in the world is wrong and how did you get so wet?"

At the same time, she was stirring up the coals in the fire place and soon had a fire going. All the while she was urging me to get out of those wet clothes. Then she disappeared into another room and came back with an armful of clothes and a towel and said, "Put these dry clothes on. They may not be as good as yours, but they are just as clean."

I heard her then calling Uncle Melve, her brother, asleep in another room, urging him to hurry and explaining the reason. In minutes he came in dressed and with a lighted kerosene lantern in his hand. We were soon on our way back through the woods.

These two people were almost as close to us as family, as they had lived and worked on our farm for a long time. We children loved and respected them and always urged them to eat at the table with us which was unheard of at the time because of prejudice. As we started on the way back through the woods, at once I felt safe and secure with Uncle Melve leading the way. He steered us safely across the foot log.

When we reached our back porch the kitchen door flew open and my father stood there beaming and exclaimed, "You have the prettiest little black headed sister."

My only comment was, "I'm glad it's not another boy." There were three boys and one girl younger than me.

In the kitchen, my sister was busily preparing breakfast. The smell of frying ham and perking coffee on the wood cook stove was most tantalizing to a small, cold frightened little girl.

My sister had a fire going in the dining room, with the table set with a white table cloth, ready for the Doctor to have breakfast. He was still in with my mother.

Soon he came into the kitchen and said to Aunt Senie, "I'll turn Miss Leila and the baby over to you now. They are both fine."

Aunt Senie disappeared into Mama's room and while the Doctor washed up, my sister and I put breakfast on the table for the Doctor and Papa. We put out fried ham, eggs, gravy, hot biscuits, oatmeal and steaming coffee, along with the usual jellies, honey and apple butter. I heard the Doctor say to Papa, "Mr. Lew, you have two mighty fine girls," while Papa agreed with him.

After the Doctor left, my sister and I packed lunches for the children of school age while Papa went to bring the other children home. Aunt Senie came into the kitchen smiling and said, "You can go in and see your mama and the baby now, but mind you, be quiet."

Mama was asleep and the baby was resting quietly in the lovely old cherry wood cradle which my grandmother had used for her 11 children, including two sets of  twins. My mother was the only surviving twin. The cradle is now a family heirloom.

Aunt Senie shooed us out of the room in a few minutes and said, "You young'ins had better be getting ready for school or you will be late."

There were no school buses in those days and few cars. We walked two miles to school and back except on extremely cold or rainy days when Papa hitched up our faithful family pet, "Old Thelma" and took us in the buggy.

When I got to school that morning I went to my teacher, who was my mother's youngest sister, and whispered shyly to her about the new baby.

Outwardly, I had been nonchalant about the coming blessed event, but when my aunt announced to the class that, "Nancy has a new baby sister," I was thrilled with pride and could hardly wait to get home that day to hold the new baby in my arms.

That baby girl, my sister Lois is now a proud grandmother of four.