Our front porch ran across the entire front of the house. With the tall elm trees in front we were well sheltered from rain storms, one of my joys as a kid. The porch was great to watch the dark clouds roll in from and feel the force of nature. A cool breeze would push the heavy, hot air out and a feeling of lightness embraced us. We could duck down behind the brick work as people raced past our house to beat the rain home. It was a place to play and learn the things not taught in school, like manners and kindness. Mom was our teacher on the porch, her sewing machine was in front of a window that overlooked where we played on the porch . One lesson was the “why” she always had our knives sharpened by the man who passed through the neighborhood calling out little things he could do. Us kids would pet his horse and, when permitted, get his horse some water. Mom said letting him sharpen scissors and knives was giving him pride with earning a few cents.
There was the crooked man who passed our house who lived somewhere up the street. His whole body shook as he took each step. He nodded his head to mom as he passed and smiled back to her friendly questions. Mom sometimes would have my brother Francis help him with his groceries. Kindness was our lesson there. Kindness was mom's favorite lesson.
The angry blind man was another lesson - be kind but keep your distance. The blind man had served in the first world war. There was lots to learn about being kind and mom was there to teach us, like don't watch the hobos as they ate the breakfast mom made them. Our house was marked as a place to get a free meal. Dad often erased those marks because he knew not all hobos were good people… Other lessons were why the peonies need ants to open. Ants were fine in the garden but heaven help them if they came in the house. Bees and spiders were good too - even if you got stung or bitten.
We did a lot of playing on the front porch. Mom chatted with neighbors from across the street on our front walk, the backyard was with next door neighbors, news was exchanged, and sometimes we heard things we weren’t supposed to… Mom was putting ideas in my head the whole time. Ideas that come out in my art.
