Today, I think I have uncovered a nearly forgotten gratitude treasure. Porches have made the list a couple of years, but how could I have missed a chance to celebrate one of my favorite things on the planet? A porch swing!I fell in love with porch swings at Aunt Elin Lindgren Christianson's house. She was Grandpa's oldest sister. When we were little, she would occasionally keep us while Mama went the beauty parlor for her beehive up-do. It meant a morning on the porch swing. We loved it there.
Aunt Elin was born in the 1890's. She lived simply. Children needed sunshine, snacks and fresh air. She could be firm, but was never harsh. Her rules were clear. We stayed out of the room with the pretties (the living room) and the porch was a perfect place to keep us safe, but out from under her feet until snack time.
We would swing and pretend we grown up. We felt rich and pampered under the canopy of her porch. We never tired of swinging there. We didn't feel the rain. We didn't mind the heat. We were content.
Yes... a porch swing is one of my earliest memories. Aunt Elin's welcome felt warm. Perhaps, it was the swing that called out to us a "Welcome, come say awhile."
Sharp cheddar cheese on saltines with mustard... and Brach's chocolate stars was the standard snack. Odd? Probably. But, the memory is precious.
She would refer to us as "such nice little girls". Was it true, or was she trying to encourage good manners with her words? I don't know. But, it felt nice.
Today... I had to smile at all the porch swings we saw as we walked the neighborhood near the Pumpkin Festival. I had to show some restraint, as I always want to stop and swing.
I think nice little girls wait to be invited to the porch swing.
Today, I am grateful for porch swings.
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