"The Country Home"

by Marilyn Oliver

One day I took a walk through the woods out back of my grandmothers house and I came across a old farm house. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for a great many number of years. I sat down and looked at the house for a long time. It was very old maybe a hundred and fifty years old. There never was electric put in, and neither running water. There looked to be only one room. I wondered if it held a large family or a small one. Then I thought maybe it was a hunting cabin. I could only imagine the history of the house.

I decided to look inside the house, and sure enough, there was only one room. And it looked as though the family had just left it there. There was a old wood stove there in one corner with a small table next to it. A cupboard was hanging on the wall with the dishes still there. They had at least a inch of dust on them. The pots and the pans were on top of the stove turned upside down, like it was done a long time ago. There were two beds in the room on the other side. Both still had their blankets on them and were made to perfection. Of course there was dust on them as well, and on the floor. No wait that's not dust , that is a dirt floor. There was no floor in this house. If I remembered my American history right, that was typical of a home steadier in the late 1700's and in the early 1800's. That would mean that this house had to be a least a150 years old.

I sat down on a rock in front of the house and tried to imagine living there. I was a city person, and there was no way I could imagine the life style of the kind of people, that could call that house a home.

I marked my way so I could find the house again and made my way back to my grandmothers house. It was getting dark by the time I got back and my grandmother was on the porch swing when I came around the corner of her house. I took notice of the way she looked there in the setting sun. She looked as though she was a beautiful woman once. She must have had long chestnut red hair, and green eyes like most of the Irish did. But she didn't have the tell tale freckles most red heads had. She had the whitest skin I have ever seen. In the setting sun with her out of style clothes, I could imagine her living in that house in the woods.

I sat down on the steps in front of my grandmother and thought about the way she could have lived there and what kind of woman would want to. She was that type of woman. She was a very simple kind of woman, she never have asked for anything more than what she had. She kept a clean house, and had a stern hand when needed. Yet she was as soft as cotton when touched by love for her family. The way it must have been for the woman who had lived in that house so many years ago.

I could picture just what she might have looked like fifty years ago, when she was in her youth. A beauty, any man would have killed for. And the house seemed to fit her too. It must have had the same charm my grandmother must have had all those years before. But why do I keep linking the house to my grandmother? It must have been fifty years since the house was lived in. And my grandmother has always lived in this house. The it struck me she must know the house is there. So I took a deep breath and asked her." Gram, do you know about the house in the woods behind your house?" Her answer was a long time coming, so I thought maybe she didn't hear me so I asked her again.

Yes, my sweet, I know about the house. Did you find it tonight? Is that why you were looking at me just then? My grandmother asked me as if she already knew the answer. Then she answered it herself. You did find it. And you want to know its history and who lived there, don't you?

Yes, I do Grandmother, but how did you know that? I asked her, suprised a little at her answers. How long has the house been there? There was a hundred questions I wanted to ask , but I will take my time. Somehow I felt that the answers I wanted wasn't going to be easy to get from her. But I was wrong.

The view from my grandmothers front porch seemed to take on life just then. The tops of the trees looked like they were on fire, and the setting sun as it went out of sight it turned the mountains in the far sky a silvery gray. It was beautiful. While this was occurring we sat in silence, watching the sun disappear. Then after the sun was gone, she started talking about that house in the woods.

Did you know? she asked me. That there was raised in that little house three generations of a family? and as each generation died off a new one took over the home. It saw the family through many births and just as many deaths. There was love there in that little House.

Whose' house was it Gram, I asked.

Well I guess you could say that it now belongs to you. You are the youngest of that family you know. It belonged to my grandmothers family. So lets see, you would be the sixth generation. And since my daughter had no other children except you, then the house is yours.

What would I do with a house that old, Gram? It looks like it is ready to fall down.

My child, said my grandmother, you don't understand do you. It's not the house but the history. Let me see if I can tell you the stories of that house. My Gram used to tell me, like her mother told her.

My grandmother fell silent then as if she went into a trance. I figured she was thinking of how to begin her tale.

It was a very hard winter that year and the trip was not yet over, when great grandfather decided to put stakes down for the winter on the side a hill. It was beautiful there, and they would have to work fast so the winter wouldn't come in on them. This is not where they wanted to be. But with the trip taking longer than it was suppose to, then this place would have to do. You see they were headed for California. They had bought some land there to get a new start in the new world. The year was about 1759 and with the hardship of Ireland, this would have to do. It was to late to turn back now. His name was Patrick McCormick and with his wife and their daughter they would make this place their home for the winter. He built that little house you found today. He built it with all the love a man could have for his family. He built it strong to keep out the wind and the rain, and the snow. He had brought that stove with him, the one in the corner, And he sealed the pipes so it would not leak. The little house was very strong and warm.

As the winter hit he had hunted and had stored a lot of meat. Did you know that out back of that little house there is a cellar? It probably has caved in by now, but it was deep and cold inside. Much colder than the best freezer made today. He put in all that meat he hunted, and it froze hard. And they lived off that supply of meat, when the snow was too deep to hunt in. He was a very smart man. But not smart enough. Just before the winter ended, his wife, her name was.......... let me see..... What was her name?......... Oh yea Sarah, Yes Sarah that was it. She was to have a baby, their second child. Well she went into labor one night, and it had snowed all day. He tried to help her deliver the baby but the child was born dead. Oh he was sad, very sad. and since there was no one to do it for him he went out to bury the child.

He got turned around somehow, I guess it was in his grief, anyway he got turned around and didn't get back until morning. By then he had a bad cold. As the winter lingered on his cold got worse. Soon it was phunomia and as spring came to the little house he died.

Sarah buried him out in the front yard, by a large rock so she would always know where he was. And there he rests today. She never left the little house, she lived there the rest of her life and was buried by her husband.

As my grandmother told me the story, I was remembering sitting on that rock in the yard, If I had known it was a grave marker, I would have never sat there.

My grandmother went on with her story. Well during that summer more people came and settled there and soon it was a town. They called the town Pattysburg. After the first man who settled there. Sarah had told everyone how her husband had protected them through the first winter and out of respect, and a lack of a better name they decided Pattysburg it was. Sarah was very proud. And she raised their daughter with the story of the first winter and of her father.

As the daughter grew so did the town and soon there was young men coming courting her.

What was her name gram, I asked.

Her name? Well give me a minute............... I think it was Pricilla,...... yes that's it. Soon Pricilla had many men coming courting and there was one who caught her fancy, his name was Welshmen, He was a Russian immigrant. And he was very much in love with her. Soon they married, and they had a son. Pricilla wanted him name after her father. And her husband agreed. He had grown up with the stories of the first man as well as everyone else. The son was called Patrick Welshmen, He was the only child born to them.

The little house was indeed full then, with three generations of family there under the roof. It was decided it was too small. So as the child grew another house was built. This house, where I now live, as a matter of fact. Well Sarah couldn't bare to leave the old house, and she stayed there until her death. And like I said before she was buried there beside her Patrick. The family moved out of the little house and it stood empty for twelve years, until little Patrick, as he was called, got married. He went to the little house and fixed it up for his bride and there they lived for the first year. His wife gave birth there like his mother and her mother had done, she gave birth to a daughter and they named her Sarah.

Gram that's your name! Are you that little girl? I asked very excited now. This was my family and I was learning of it for the first time.

Yes my sweet it was me. I was born there in 1893. and it was the last time a child was born there. My parents left that little house when my grandparents died and we came to live here. Here is where I have been my whole life. Your mother was born here after I married my husband George. And so was her brother Patrick.

Gram I didn't know I had a uncle. Where is he now? I asked almost afraid of the answer.

He was killed in the war. Along with your father. We didn't bother telling you about him, it was hard enough on you growing up with out a father we didn't want to take way a uncle too. Did you know your middle name was after my mother?

Really? Her name was Breanna? I already knew I was named after Gram, but I didn't know my great-grandmother too! What a thrill! I was a living history. Sarah Breanna Johnson. Now I knew exactly who I was. But the story wasn't over yet.

When your mother met your father, they moved to the little house, just like everyone did for a short spell but they weren't used to the conditions so they left it after a month and no one has been there since, until you found it today. You see Sarah, that house is yours. And maybe one of these days you and your husband will fix up that little house and live there for a year and, it will bring you all the love and comfort it has brought to the entire family since the winter Patrick McCormick built it all these years ago.

Gram was tired, and she fell asleep there on the porch, in her swing, and while she slept, I thought about that little house, And what it will mean to me to tell my grandchildren about it.

Tomorrow I get married and I will tell my husband the story on our wedding night, there in the little country house on the side of a hill in the back woods behind my grandmothers house. We were suppose to go to California on our honey moon but I think now we should stay in the little house in the woods. I'm sure he won't mind. His name is Patrick too.

The morning was bright and the air had a lift to it, when I got up. I had

a lot to do if I wanted to stay in the little house tonight. I showered and

went down to the kitchen where Gram was already waiting breakfast for

me. My friends from school was there and they were as excited as I was

about the wedding. You would think each one of them was getting

married. I had on jeans and a old shirt, something you wouldn't think of

wearing on your wedding day, but I had plans for this morning. The

wedding wasn't until 6pm and there would be plenty of time to get ready.

My maid of honor was a girl from school. We had went to school

together for 6 years, and we had stayed very close friends, after all theses years. Her name was Kathy. She was a stout girl and she didn't have a lot of friends, I don't think she has ever been on a date in her life. Her hair was blonde and she had the bluest eyes of anyone I have ever met, She always wore lose clothes so to try to hide her large figure. I never thought that she was all that big, but she did, and that was way she was so shy. Making friends with her wasn't easy at first, but soon she saw that I offered her real friendship, and soon she became my best friend. So when I asked her to be my maid of honor you would have thought it was her own wedding she helped me to plan. She had a lot of great ideas. One of which, was to go to Hollywood on our Honey Moon. Now I had to tell her the trip was off.

As soon as it was possible I called her over to me and asked her to take a walk with me. I told her to change into her most comfortable clothes and to follow me. She didn't ask any questions, she got changed and soon we were on our way through the woods in the back of my grandmothers house.

As we walked I told her the story of the little house my grandmother had told me the night before. And by the time I had finished telling her

about it, there was the house. It looked more alive today than it had the night before. I guess it knew somehow, another family was going to start

there under its roof. The house looked brighter, and more like a new home to me than I thought it would. The paint didn't look so worn and the door not quite so sagging. The floor was still dirt, but that could be changed later on. The roof looked straighter and the hills behind the house looked greener. Yes, I believe the house knew we had plans for it.

When we reached the house Kathy didn't feel towards it like I did, she just stood there and shook her head. I asked her if she thought we

could make ready the house by tonight? and her reply was as a true friend would say is, If this is what you want then we had better get started on it. Is there water anywhere? She asked.

Man, I hadn't even thought of water, so I told her we had to look for a creek or a well, because the house didn't have running water. So off we went to look around the house. I hadn't gone ten steps when she let out a scream. I went running to her thinking she had fallen or something, and as I rounded the corner of the back of the house I too had to gasp, there was the most beautiful creek with a water fall I had ever seen. Completely untouched by man. It was something to see.

With the problem of water solved, we went inside the house. Kathy had to make me laugh when she said, " You know you won't have to buy a mop" Then we got busy. We drew water out of the creek and took it to the house and started cleaning. She did the dishes and I did the stove, and soon we were hungry. I looked at my watch, it was 1pm already. And we weren't finished, we needed more help. We made our way back to my grandmothers house.

People was looking for us everywhere, they thought we had gotten lost in the woods or something, But I sat down, and told the story to them, and suddenly everyone wanted to help. It wasn't long before the entire house was cleaned and new linen was on the beds. And there was fire wood in the stove. Gram even brought some food and put it in the little box by the stove we were all set for a nice Honey Moon. Only problem was , Patrick still didn't know about it. Telling him would happen as soon as possible after the wedding.

As we stood back and looked at the little house Kathy made a comment, I hadn't really thought of. "You know, she said , this little house started out with a Patrick and a Sarah, And tonight there will be another Patrick and Sarah there. I hope the second ones, are as happy as the first ones.

I gave her a hug, and said to her, Me too! With the house finished now and waiting for tonight, I had to go back and get ready for the wedding.

Patrick was beside himself. He had thought the entire wedding party had been taken by aliens or something, He looked in every nock and cranny he could think of. He was very relieved, to say the least, when we all appeared all at the same time, looking like we had been cleaning a cave. I tried to run and hide from him because it was supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, but he stopped me.

Sarah !, Just where have you been? I have looked everywhere for you. I have been going crazy with worry. The wedding is only 1 hour away. He said with tears in he eyes. He looked like he was going to cry.

I had to tell him then what was happening. He sat through the whole story and listened to me, and never said a word until I had finished. He wanted to go see the house, but I asked for him not to, I wanted it to be a wedding present from me to him. He agreed, and went to his room to get ready, and I went to mine.

The wedding was more beautiful than I could have imagined, And when we said our vows he added to his, " and I will let nothing you do supprise me again" The entire wedding company and the guest laughed. And through out the resception we talked about nothing but the house in the woods. We could hardly wait, so we didn't . Everyone went with us to the little house and we said our goodbye there to our friends. And then we went inside.

The next morning was the first day of the rest of our lives, and we made a pack with each other. We both knew that we couldn't live there, but each and every year of our lives we will come back to this little house and celebrate our marriage. And when our children were born we brought them with us and told them the story of this little house in the woods.

My Grandmother died, and we buried her in the field where she could look out after the house for us when we weren't able to be here.

All this was forty years ago, and now I'm telling you the story of the little house in the woods. Because my sweet, you are the eighth generation, and the house now belongs to you, my dear sweet Sarah.