Mullins

My early childhood was filled with many fond memories. I grew up on a small farm in Post Falls, Idaho, in the late 1950s and 60s. My dad had purchased a one-room church building and arranged for it to be moved to 10 acres west of town. Over time my dad added on additional rooms to that small structure so that when I was born there were two tiny bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen/dining room and a small living room that met the needs of our family of five (two parents and three boys).

By the time my younger twin sisters were born, my dad had added on a third bedroom so that my two brothers and I had a room that we slept in, my sisters had a room of their own, with my parents sleeping in a small room adjacent to my sisters’ bedroom. I suppose, by then, the footprint of the entire dwelling was little more than 700 square feet.

We weren’t wealthy by any means. But none of us kids ever experienced poverty. My dad worked as a maintenance repairman for Ideal Cement Co. in nearby Spokane. My mom worked part-time as a freelance writer for the Spokane Chronicle newspaper. To supplement the household income we raised a few milk cows, one bull, grew and harvested hay in the fields and maintained a rather sizable vegetable garden. My mom canned vegetables and fruits, which were stored throughout the year in the potato cellar beneath our house. We traded milk and cream for pork raised by a neighbor a half-mile away. We butchered one beef cow each year and kept the meat in a rented cold storage locker in town.

Speaking of cold, winters in northern Idaho back then were frigid. It wasn’t unusual for snow to drift as high as the eaves of the house. Shoveling snow was an almost daily chore. I find it remarkable that we never missed going to church because of inclement weather or icy roads, not even one Sunday. The First Christian Church in Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho, was more than 14 miles from our farm house, and somehow my parents made sure all five of us kids were ready to go with them to meet our grandparents at church, and that was after the cows were milked and the ice was broken to expose the water beneath it in the old cast iron bathtub that served as a watering trough for the livestock.

Reminiscing my childhood brings to mind one of my favorite television shows from the 1970s, “The Waltons.” Now, as an adult, looking back on those early years is a pleasurable experience that brings considerable comfort and appreciation. I realize how very blessed my life has been, and I am grateful to God for such memories.