Every now and they I find the time to take a few minutes to just kind of look at my life and try to remember important events and/or people. Most of those types of events in my early years (back in the before color TV era), I can attribute to a person that I called "Aunt Ruby". Now, Aunt Ruby and her husband, Uncle Percy, were not blood kin to us. They were what we called 'family by love' ( a lovely feature of southern rural living that is dying out these days).
Anyway, as I have been thinking the last few days, I realized what may well be the most important lesson she ever taught me:
"Carol Ann, the good Lord don't count the number of times you walk into the church building, he don't count the amount of money you put in the offering plate. What he counts, that matters in the end, is how you treated other people. That's what makes the difference in whether the Pearly Gates open, or you go to the other place."
Over the years, she not only made that statement multiple times, she lived it by example on a daily basis.
Well there was one exception that comes to mind. There was the day Aunt Ruby got chased by the garter snake. Now, my Aunt Ruby wasn't much scared of anything. I've seen her pop an onnery cow on the head and make it drop to its knees. I've seen her grab a wounded animal to take care of it no matter how much it bit and scratched. I've seen her open her doors to every hobo on the tracks by the house that needed food, drink, a bath, clothes, etc. She pretty much lived her life fearlessly, except for snakes.
On this one particular Saturday afternoon, we were sitting on the old glider under the black walnut tree. We had been working in the garden and were trying to cool down a bit with a glass of grape kool-aid (my beverage of choice back then....well, still is sometimes). Aunt Ruby stood up to go into the house for something, turned to say something to Uncle Percy, and let out a series of screeches that sounded a lot like two bobcats were tangling. She was looking just past Uncle Percy and I, so we both spun around to look.
Right there in the grass, moving at a right fast pace, was a garter snake about 18 inches long. First, I was stunned that she could even see the danged thing (she must have had some sort of built in snake radar....she was terrified of snakes, did I mention that?). That snake was headed right for Aunt Ruby like she was wearing his favorite perfume or something. Next, out the corner of my eye, I noticed movement, I turned and a most incredible sight was before. Aunt Ruby was levitating. She was never a small woman, by any means, but somehow, she was airborne and pivoting in mid-air. (Must be watching the Olympics reminded me of this event.)
She had taken 3 strides before her feet hit the ground. Each and every time one of her feet hit the ground, she let out another screech! Aunt Ruby was headed for the safety of the house and that snake was following her every step of the way. She made it to safety, slamming the door behind her while she still had about a two foot lead on the snake. The snake went right on across the patio, stuck his head into the dogs watering bowl for a drink, and then left like he hadn't a clue what he had done.
Uncle Percy and I kinda looked at each other. If the look on my face was anything like the one on his, we must have made quite a site. His eyes were huge, his jaw dropped, his face color rapidly changing from red to purple. (I later found out it was because he wanted to laugh but was scared of what Aunt Ruby would do if he did!) Anyway, once he could talk he said, I think now would be a real good time to haul the garbage off to the dump...wanna go with me? I didn't even give an answer. Rather than wait for him to move the truck, I was already doing my 9 year old best to drag that 55 gallon drum to the truck to load it.
By the time we'd taken the garbage off, stopped in for a corn dog and a rootbeer at the local drive in restaurant, took a stroll through the livestock at the auction house, we deemed it safe to return home.
We still got blasted by Aunt Ruby for not protecting her from the snake despite all of our assertions that 1) the snake was not attacking her, they just happened to be headed in the same direction, 2) it all happened too fast, and 3) there was no way we could have caught up with her if we'd had rockets tied to our feet.
After two days of having to eat store bought bread toast with breakfast, she finally forgave us and went back to homemade biscuits. (Thank goodness she didn't take away the fig preserves or I never would have been able to stomach the toast.) That is the only time I ever remember seeing Aunt Ruby angry at anyone. (And, my only experience with biscuit withdrawal syndrome.) We were finally forgiven and the snake was never seen or heard from again. Although I will admit that, when we burned off the field that year and, I found the snake skeleton in the ashes, Aunt Ruby had a very satisfied smirk on her face.
Enough of a walk down memory lane. Bottom-line: no matter how long or short a life you live, your interactions with other people will live far beyond you. The events I described to you occurred 45 years ago, and I remember them as vividly as if it was yesterday. How do you want to be remembered?