Welcome to Awakenings

Life IS history in the making. Every word we say, everything we do becomes history the moment it is said or done. Life void of memories leaves nothing but emptiness. For those who might consider history boring, think again: It is who we are, what we do and why we are here. We are certainly individuals in our thoughts and deeds but we all germinated from seeds planted long, long ago.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

A Story from Childhood: Mud Pies

What is history without a story from childhood? Each of us has a fond memory that perhaps either directly or indirectly connects our lives in some way to past historical events.

Mine is a story of mud. . .



When I was a little girl
I loved to eat dirt
My favorite recipe, mud pies—
One cup water, two cups Mother Earth

When I think about it now
"Was I completely insane?"
If asked to eat it today
I would say, "Never again!"

One memorable day at school
My teacher read a story out loud
A story about a soldier
That made me grin both inside and out

His story was a story of mud
"Reddish brown mud, blackish mud, gray mud
Soggy mud, dried up mud, hopeless mud
Even suck-your-shoe-off-your-foot mud. . .

Mud all over his pants and his boots
Mud in his water and mud in his food
Woolen blankets coated with caked mud
So stiff they wouldn't do anyone good. . .

Mud so think guns sand to their axles
Mules disappeared without a trace
Once a soldier stuck deep in the mud
Used his musket to mark his place"

This soldier fought
Alongside many who died
In civil war
Filled with hardship and pride

Now as I reminisce of my days with mud
On my face, clothes, socks, even shoes
I think about this lonely Union soldier
With his mud pies amidst the blues

©2012
Sharla Lee Shults