It’s cold. We are in a recession. We are at war and many, many people are out of work and scared. I thought it would be a good time to read some books that remind us of how strong people can be. How hard they will work and how little they really need to survive.
My children are all sick in bed today. No leaving the house for chores. No selfish activities. I tucked them all under two down puffs amidst a million pillows and read to them about the world of Laura Ingalls Wilder.* In “Little House In The Big Woods,” Laura Ingalls is forever a young girl living in a small log cabin at the edge of what was still the untamed wilderness of our country.
In the 1860’s, she lived in Wisconsin with her father, mother, two sisters, cat, dog , assorted horses, cows and the occasional pig. Her immediate family was her world. Their hard work made their lives possible with little outside contact.
Her father built their home and barn. He killed bear, pigs and deer for their meat; grew grains for their bread; harvested their gardens for their fruits and vegetables. He cut wood for their heat. He made their beds and chairs. Their mother made everything else, from sheets to dresses. She made their cheese, butter, and preserves. They made their sugar from maples, their blankets from animal skins, their lamps from kerosene salt and red rags for color.
The Ingalls were completely self-sufficient and completely happy. What they did not have they did not need.
In winter they stayed inside. In one room with one fireplace and a trundle bed. The girls had paper-dolls and homemade dolls. They played in the attic with pumpkins and corn under the rafters filled with herbs, onions, hams, venison and peppers. They worked hard to make what they needed and maintain what they had. At night, when their father returned from hunting, he played his fiddle and told stories.
In summer they worked the fields, visited friends and family, and collected food for the next winter.
Highly anticipated special occasions were few and far between – Christmas with cousins, a dance at sugar harvest, and a trip to town. The real joys were taken in the day to day life they all lived together. Making cheese, frying the tail of a slaughtered pig – they found contentment in places we no longer even think to look.
Of course, as I reread the other books, I will remember the fears and the dangers. Illness was often fatal. Mary went blind from a fever. Unable to care for themselves, they would have had nothing. But the early books, this one in particular, remind us of how lucky we are.
When we are cold, we need heat. When we are hungry, we need food. When we are lonely, we need company. If we can remember to prize the ability to meet these needs and help those who can not – we all have much much more than we realize. If you are lucky enough to have a warm house, curl up and remind yourself how little we all truly need to be happy.
* Little House In The Big Woods, Little House on The Prairie, Farmer Boy, On The Banks of Plum Creek, By The Shores of Silver Lake, The Long Winter, Little Town on The Prairie, These Happy Golden Years.
