Growing Up On The Farm A Tribute To Mom And Dad

By Marcella Alain Sevigny

Do the dishes, sweep the floor,
Get the mail at the store,
Feed the pigs, milk the cow,
Pick the eggs, fix the chow,

Mow the lawn, feed the dog,
Now get ready for your job.
Stook the field, Bale the hay,
Pick the stones, then you play.

Even when things were slack
Entertainment didn't lack.
Daddy took us to the fair
At all things we did stare.

Saskatoon saw us come
To the Movies we did run.
Cousin Norbert led the way
3 dimensional that day.

Peelings logs - they came cheap
3 cents each by the heap.
Splitting wood, catching balls
With the Indians in the fall.

Riding Mowers, shoveling grain,
It was worth all the pain;
Though today we can't bend
All our backs have to mend.

Here's a skunk, there's the dog
Oh the smell, it's worse than hogs.
Tomato juice costs too much
Never mind such and such.

Throw the dog in the creek;
Let him paddle till he's weak.
Dad's advice took me aback
Yet old Pup always made it back.

Riding Grandpa's Model T
Was lots of fun oui, oui, oui.
It was always such a thrill
Till we almost had a spill.

Saw the train come down the tracks
Oh, Dear Lord we nearly crashed.
Grandpa always sang you know
And didn't hear the whistle blow.

Saturday was hockey night.
At our house it was bright
With all the kids wound up tight
He would never miss a fight.

All of this on radio
Turned up high so he would know
Who had scored, who had shot,
Who was playing, who had fought.

Then at church he did his thing
His voice had a special ring
Through the rafters of the church
Made the organ almost lurch.

Mrs. Veillard did her best
To play the organ in her nest.
If by chance we couldn't sing
A piece of sen sen she would bring.

No excuse for Mothers she'd say
Bring your babies; they will play
In their bassinets of silk
Very few would ever bilk.

The toddlers sat upon the floor
To get the view downstairs
Their legs would dangle through the bars
Much to their Mom's despair.

Collection time was lots of fun
You never knew what would come.
Uncle Smokey did his tricks
Of envelopes and paper clips.

When Father Claffey said our mass
The altar always jiggled.
He'd wring his hands and move around
It always made us giggle.

I always did feel sorry
For the Ukraines and the Poles
'Cause French would follow English
They couldn't understand "poor souls".

The priests were all so different,
Each had a special touch.
They all were saints in their own ways
We loved them very much.

Father van Vyngk baptized me I know
In the rectory, things weren't fancy.
A nurse and old Maynard stood up
By proxy to replace my godparents.

My godparents lived so far away,
It always seemed so special
When'er they came to visit us
In us they'd see the devil.

Father Dubois was a regular
At our dinner table.
He'd take us fishing in the woods
His presence was so stable.

Bruce was never one to squirm
When worms were put on hooks
He'd do the job and follow Father
And leave me to mind MY hook.

One day the worm fell off the hook
I carried him a mile.
I picked him up upon a twig
This sure made Father smile.

Our family knew ecumenism
Even in those days
Father Dubois on the tractor
Reverend Fraser in the bay.

Shoveling wheat together
They were the talk in town
How could a priest and Minister
Share and get along.

We all knew Father Hendricks
Was made of different stuff
Once he planned a big procession
Had the mothers in a huff.

He didn't realize of course
T'was August on the farm
And making cheese cloth dresses
Just didn't help the corn.

But as a child that day remains
Implanted in my head
Maynard was ringing all the bells
As we walked on ahead.

I'm sure Our Lady Smiled above
At these hardworking folk.
Who sang and prayed to her great praise
Father Hendricks was no joke.

The banners were just beautiful,
The children sang with glee
The parish seemed so special
As we prayed the Rosary.

It was thanks to Mrs. Veillard
That we even had a church.
She taught us how to wash and clean
Take pride in Our Lord's place.

A special week was spent each year
Going to catechism.
The Sisters came and stayed at Veillard's
Which didn't cause a schism.

We'd drive to Hudson Bay each day
A thrill for us indeed.
We'd learn the answers to our faith
And pray for those in need.

The Sisters were a special lot
And one kept us in stitches.
Soeur Louise was known by one and all
With her there were no hitches.

Saturday was bath night.
We all knew 'cause we'd fight
If we couldn't be the first
To get rid of all our dirt.

Mom became the heroine
Baking all kinds of things.
Popcorn, fudge, gooey pie
All those things that make you sigh.

After that we'd play games;
Monopoly, marbles were quite tame.
Enough to calm us down for the night;
Then Sunday came to set us right.

GROWING UP

One day when I was tiny
My mother tried to sew.
I thought I'd help her out a bit
Move the pedals to and fro.

I heard an awful scream and stopped.
My mother was still struggling;
The needle pierced her finger through
I found it all befuddling....

How playing underneath this thing
Could hurt someone on top.
At two-and-a-half you don't perceive
How you can be a flop.

I tried it out a few more times
Till Mom made it quite clear.
I was NOT to be beside her
When she worked her sewing gear.

Before refrigeration
We did things differently.
We CANNED our peas, and beans and fruit;
We even canned our meat.

And to this very day I'd say
T'would really be a treat
If someone offered me a jar
Of truly home-canned meat.

Mom had a knack of making it
So precious to us all.
The meat was red and delicate
With clear gel to top it all.

Mom loved her babies as they came;
She smothered them with love.
They always smelled so pretty
To her they were like doves.

She bathed us every morning;
Upon the kitchen table.
She took her time and talked to us
This routine was quite stable.

She always dried us on her lap;
One leg crossed o'er the other.
The oven door laid open wide
To warm both babe and mother.

She taught us all our nursery rhymes
Made sure that we could spell.
Was interested in what we did
Made sure we did it well.

Beneath the coal oil lamp at night,
She'd guide us in assignments.
She'd quizz us for the test next day
Made sure we knew the refinements.

When public speaking came around,
She helped me to compose.
Without her help I never won
AT Zenon Park it really showed.

With Dad another story came;
He loved to play with numbers.
How much is 9 times 6 plus 8
Less than that you didn't slumber.

Because of all his drills at home
For accuracy and speed;
I won a bag of peanuts
The day I took the lead.

SUMMER DAYS

The summer had its ups and downs;
We grumbled lots I know.
It didn't have the magic
That winter had with snow.

The morning saw us picking stones
From 8 till 9 or so
Then we'd make hay or stook the fields
Till supper, then we'd slow.

The next day was the same as that
At least that's how it seemed.
While all our friends had loads of fun
Swimming in OUR creek.

Saturdays were different
Throughout the summertime.
We'd always quit work early,
Toss in the bindertwine.

The house was cleaned from end to end.
The floors shone with a glitter.
We all had baths and cleaned our shoes
We looked like a clean litter.

We went to town to get our meat
At the locker plant.
It had to last the whole week through;
Mom's choice could not be scant.

We saw our neighbors and our friends.
We socialized a lot.
A nickel or a dime to spend;
To us it seemed a lot.

We sometimes saw a movie
Or we went to grandma's house
She never failed to scold us
so I'd be quiet as a mouse.

We'd walk the street from East to West(North to South)
Peered into the Cafe.
Good girls were not to hang out there
We'd hear our mothers say.

If our shoes needed mending
We'd bring them into town.
Our Uncle Albert fixed them
While his friends just sat around.

Bruce and I would play outdoors
Chase chickens till they'd cackle.
We'd chase each other down the road
And end up in a tackle.

The old caboose was our playhouse;
As it stood beneath the trees,
The chickens laid their eggs nearby,
While we played "make believe."

An old mower lay abandoned;
In what we called the "short-cut";
The binder twine provided the nest
For the swallows it was 'Luck'.

WINTER DAYS

In winter we played hockey
Right in our front yard.
Dad taught us how to pass the puck.
It didn't seem too hard.

We both went on to play on teams.
The boys beat us 3-2
Who cares we said; spring had come
The ice had melted through.

One winter we hitched up the dog
To pull us on our sleigh.
He took off down the road with glee
For us it was great play.

Bruce took it one step further;
The dog pulling his on skis.
It didn't take much error
For Bruce to tumble to his knees.

Each winter saw the snow piled deep.
We'd bank our house with it.
It kept us warm and cozy;
A fire always lit.

When snow had fallen fresh and deep
We'd get our snowsuits on.
Make imitations angels
All over our front lawn.

Another game we loved to play
Was known as fox and geese.
We'd make a great big circle
And tramp it with our feet.

The object was to be the fox
And catch the many geese
So we'd run around the circle
As quick as we could be.

Maynard was always first to church,
Followed by our bunch.
After which we went back home
With the priest for lunch.

Summer days were long and warm.
Strawberries were in season.
If Mom didn't get her hundred jars;
God help us for the reason.

Raspberries were the next to pick;
Scratched all up to our ears.
We peddled them with cream and eggs
Unrivaled by our peers.

Our garden never was a hit.
We didn't have the knack
That Mrs. Murdock had in hers
From which to sell a sack.

Mom was quite a seamstress.
She always seemed to know
Just what to sew us girls for Easter
Or what just didn't go.

SCHOOL AT WHITE POPLAR

School was quite a walk away.
We mostly went on foot;
Except Marcella and Simone
Whom Tony spoiled "en route".

Simone supplied the carriage
While I supplied the chop.
I'm sure our parents wondered
Why Tony never dropped.

One day a train scared Tony.
He took off on the run.
Marlyne and Arnold rescued us.
It was anything but fun.

Old Tony took our pictures
By farting in our face.
He'd lift his tail and neigh a bit;
Without a loss of pace.

At school we were quite popular
We'd feed the horse at noon
The Klimas and Alains
Were such a bunch of goons.

Track and field was our forte.
Alains excelled at that.
Except the year a gopher hole
Put our three legs out flat.

White Poplar was a grand place
Christmas concerts were a hit.
Dad always helped put up the stage;
It went up bit by bit.

DAD

Me, me was his nickname;
We never did know why
Until Louis Laplante was heard
To mock him to his eye.

I'm going to put the stage up me
Help Mrs. Smith, you know.
You help me, you he'd point away
The secret now was told.

Daddy had a sweet tooth.
Of that we are quite sure.
Mom's jam he put on everything;
To this day Mom endures.

Dad's shop was like his castle;
His tools all in their place.
God help you if you took one
And failed to fill the place.

He churned the cream to butter.
His inventions usually worked.
The tractor turned the motor,
His hands controlled the jerks.

One year Dad had an accident;
He tripped while in the woods.
The saw came up to meet his face
Mr. Nichols helped all he could.

He put Dad in the car alright;
But even he got weak.
Dad grabbed the wheel and drove himself
To Hudson Bay's Main Street.

Doc Silver did his very best;
The freezing wouldn't take.
He stitched Dad up amazingly
One hundred twenty strong and straight.

That winter Daddy wore a scarf
To keep his face from freezing.
He looked just like the rest of us
Which started us a sneezing.

MOM

Mom's social life was limited
In those early years.
She didn't learn to drive the car
Or get rid of her fears.

She walked to all her meetings;
Her rhythm strong and steady.
Her arms would swing as she would sing.
Mom never got too heady.

Our Mother was a worker;
She never knew to stop.
Whoever was the baby;
Was sure to make her flop

Right down upon her bed at one
She'd lie and read a bit.
No time at all she'd be asleep
Then I'd get into IT.

One day I set the house on fire
An accident, you know.
I ran to call my mommy dear,
I couldn't be a liar.

She put Bruce in his high chair
And Bernie in her carriage.
She fought the flames with such gusto;
I admired her valor and courage.

Of course I got a lick'n
I knew that I deserved.
But Marlyne and Maxine today
Are staying quite reserved.

You see THEY really taught me
How to play with fire.
They'd light a match high in the air
Then watch how it expired.

A basin of water placed below
On the kitchen bench
Caught the matches as they fell
And fizzled in a stench.

FAMILY LIFE

Their faith was strong and steadfast,
They put their trust in God,
They never worked on Sunday;
But still harvested the pod.

The rosary we said each night
As we leaned on the bench.
Dad never did learn English;
Mom never did learn French.

The baby sat and cooed away;
While Mom sat in her chair.
The rest of us picked the odd fight;
Which always raised Dad's hair.

On Sundays we would take a ride.
We'd drive from field to field.
To see how much the crop had grown
And wager on the yield.

Now Mom and Dad were busy;
Always on the go.
In the house or in the field;
Things were never slow.

Having children in between
Kept them on the hop.
In fact the neighbors wondered
If they'd ever know to stop.

Marlyne, Maxine, Bernie, Bruce,
Marcella, Joe, Michelle,
Rachelle came out differently
Her Daddy's head would swell

And Swell so large that all around
Would soon hear him proclaim
That precious little snowball
Would near become her name.

The years went on, the children grew
The house grew smaller too.
So off to Zenon, Marlyne went.
It still seemed like a zoo.

Because Maxine was right behind
She squeezed in through the door
And stayed Marlyne's companion
For three out of the four.

Marcella's turn came later
Then Bernie and Rachelle
For us it seemed like heaven
For them it was like hell.

Michelle was such a little girl
I drove her in my bike.
She snuggled in the basket
She was such a little tyke.

Surprise of all surprises
Was when Joey came to be.
I combed his hair and played with him
A doll he seemed to me.

I left to join the convent
When he was six months old.
The hardest thing for me to do
Was leave that little fold.

Exactly one year later,
I saw them all again.
My Joey's curls were gone alas,
Black now turned into gold.

The years have gone, flown really fast,
My hair is turning grey.
My memories are escaping me,
I know I'll have to pay.

But Mom and Dad I love you so
I want you both to know
How much I treasured knowing you
And watching you grow old.

I wish that time would stop right here
And freeze us in its tracks.
It wouldn't be so hard then
To face what this world lacks.

I hope my reminiscing
Has brought memories back to you.
The years were hard, but memorable
For special folks like you.

I cannot end without a prayer
For God has blessed you so.
I pray that he'll continue
Until you have to go.