Post WWII Hard Times

Times were hard.  The war was over and thousands of men were back, flooding the job market.  Lots of them could not find work.  The Oldham clan would load up in the back of a big truck with tall sides all around and head to Arizona to pick the pima cotton. I remember we had to pay 10 cents for a cup of water once we crossed the border into Arizona and it was kind of shocking, being from Texas where you could get water for free all along the way! We'd find some tourist courts to stay at for $4 a day and settle in there before everybody headed out to become part of the Pima cotton pickin crew.  The pima cotton grew on 6' stalks.  SD would not let me go out and pick because I was pregnant and already had some of you kids.  I only remember me and an old man 93 years old staying behind there at the courts each day when everybody else went out to pick the cotton.  When the cotton harvest was done, we loaded up and drove back to Texas.

When I think about it, I didn't have it near as hard as some other people.  I knew of a mother that had a lot harder time than I ever had.  People didn't have washing machines in their houses after The War.  Instead, there were wash houses that mothers would send their children to with the wash loads and a mother sent her three daughters and one young son one day to the wash house to get the family wash done.  The girls left the brother with the cloths at the wash house and went for a ride.  Their car stalled on the railroad track and the train came and hit the car and all three of those girls were killed.  I can not imagine losing three daughters all in one day.... I've never had as hard of times as that!

How to Find Paradise by Darren Hardy, Publisher, Success Magazine

Once, long ago, there was a man who was displeased with his life.
Yes, he had a wife who loved him and two children who adored him.
He liked his work and had friends he enjoyed, but still something nagged at him.

Daily, he found himself dreaming of an unseen place he heard about called Paradise.

One morning over a bowl of oatmeal, he stopped dreaming of Paradise and decided to go find it. Without a word to his family, he walked out the front gate with the broken latch, away from the place he had called home and never looked back. He was a man bound for Paradise.

For three days he traveled. And each night, before falling asleep, the man removed his shoes and deliberately pointed them in the direction he had been traveling, toward Paradise. Each morning he carefully stepped into his shoes and continued his quest.

Then on the third night the man accidently kicked his unofficial compass 180 degrees. When the first rays of morning fell, the man leapt to his feet, carefully stepped into his shoes and began traveling in the direction they told him to go—toward “Paradise.”

Exactly three days later, he arrived. “Paradise!” he cried from atop the hill. Though, as he stared at the village below, he thought it looked vaguely familiar… but wrote it off as coincidence.  He excitedly descended the hill and walked through the village of Paradise where strangers knew him by name. Of course they did! Why wouldn’t they? This was Paradise!

The man continued until he came to the end of the road where there was a gate with a broken latch. He walked through, and as he did, he heard a melodious voice calling him in for dinner and could smell the aroma of his favorite meal. As he opened the front door the man was greeted by two children who yelped “Daddy!” as they wrapped themselves around him and a woman who kissed him like she meant it.

Ah! Paradise he thought.
Now, every morning the man eats his bowl of oatmeal and revels in his new, wonderful life in Paradise.

Box Full of Kisses