Thirty Days to be Thankful: Day eleven I pulled this written piece called My First Landlady from my previously written file that might one day be a chapter in my unwritten book. I condensed it to better fit space on face book. I never knew her first name and found it unnecessary to ask. I only knew her as Ms. Garrison, my first landlady when I lived in Eatontown, New Jersey . I was a seventeen year old bride straight out of eastern Kentucky. She was my landlady for only two weeks; however, she was my remembered friend for a life time. Standing about four feet ten inches tall with short grey hair and green eyes she was self assured and ready to teach me about New Jersey starting with the Atlantic Ocean. A knock on the door awakened me to her voice telling me it was time to get up for she had a day planned with me. My husband had already left for the base as he was stationed there as a student and soldier in the U.S. Army. I would rather have stayed in bed but this spunky little lady was determined to take me to the beach to see the ocean for the first time. I was in for more surprises than I had anticipated. Our mode of transportation was a small Ford that was manufactured and sold prior to having brakes or reverse gear. Ms Garrison referred to the car as her Tin Lizzie. Her husband had bought the car new in 1927, took great care of it then he died leaving the car for her to use. The head lights were located on each side of the car and reminded me of the oil lamps my family had used prior to their access to electricity. It had to be filled with a liquid that I believe was kerosene and lit by hand. On the front of the car was a crank that looked like wrought iron and stuck out from the grill. Ms. Garrison twisted and turned the crank until she heard a certain sound from under the hood that she recognized that let her know the car had started. Then she had to rush to get inside the car to give it gas and keep it started. Often she would have to do this several times before she could get into the car and we could actually move. Having no reverse gear Ms. Garrison would make a circle in the center of a four-way-intersection in the middle of this military town.. As she drove into her chosen street she would yell and wave to the policeman who was always in the intersection directing traffic. He would acknowledge her quickly and encourage her through as she drove the car in the direction she was looking. Often times he had to move quickly to avoid being hit while calling out “Have a nice day Ms. Garrison.” I was excited when we arrived at the beach and told her I was enjoying it, but she wanted more from me. She wanted me to describe what I saw with feelings. She took me to visit the library and as she introduced me to the librarian I can still see her eyes with excitement and how proud she was as she told me the importance of having a library in the city. She emphasized that everyone should be aware of the knowledge inside those walls and the free easy access to learning it. As we traveled to our destination she told me all about her sewing group and that I must get involved and learn how to sew. As she introduced me she told the group that I was a beginner and they all needed to teach me sewing and how to make pretty things. Although my mother had taught me how to sew as a child, I saw pretty things at the meetings that made me want to learn more. Ms. Garrison and her sister picked berries from their little back yard garden for my breakfast each morning and baked something every day insisting that I taste it then give comments on how I liked it. One such baked item was a large round cake with sliced apples standing over the entire cake then baked with butter and sugar. Often Ms. Garrison would bake this apple cake and bring to me after we moved from our room at her house to an apartment a few blocks away. She knew it was one of my favorite dessert of all that she made and that I had tasted. By the way a taste was always a generous helping and I was expected to eat it all. My husband never understood the relationship I had with these two ladies in their early eighties. He failed to understand the love they had to share with a seventeen year old bride from Kentucky traveling for the first time. We were living on Private pay so after a while I found a job in Red Bank a town nearby. The job required enough of my time that I never had time available to continue my offered friendship and generosity from Ms. Garrison and her sister. I have never forgotten Ms. Garrison and the influence she had with my future after having known her for such a short time. I feel that she knew and understood how much she meant to me. We never know how far our words and acts will reach or whose lives we might influence by acts of love and kindness. I am thankful for having known and been influenced by the generosity of Ms. Garrison... and her sister.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 10:11:15 +0000
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