Two Cakes in September

September 28th marks my only sister's birthday. It seemed appropriate to recall cherished family celebrations that may trigger sweet memories of the seemingly simpler days of family fun. Happy birthday, Angie!

One of the Best Ways to Celebrate Birthdays

Aunt Daisy Rice, Dawn Rice Haney, Aunt Emma
 Rainey Buckley, Rick Rice, me, Angie Gates
Bradley. Take notice of the two cakes.

                Daisy Dean Rainey Rice was born on September 30 in 1893. Angela Francine Gates Bradley was born on September 28 many years later. For several years, we looked forward to a family event in September to celebrate these two birthdays. The celebration was a dinner, usually in the early evening. Some years my family hosted the soirée at our home as the photo below shows. Then other years the dinner was at Aunt Daisy’s house. Aunt Emma, the embodiment of a perfect hostess as a result of her many years in Washington, D. C., entertained everyone at her home on the east side of the square for some of the happy occasions.

Aunt Daisy Rainey Rice and Angie Gates Bradley
at the 1965 September celebration held at our
home that we shared with my maternal grandparents.
It is hard to believe that our home was only
4 years old.at the time of this photograph!

             An interesting note about the square - it consisted of a section of land in the Big Bend community just west of the Belford Schoolhouse. Aunt Daisy’s house was on the south side
 of the square, our home was on the north side of the square, and as already mentioned, Aunt Emma’s home that she shared with her younger brother, Gene, the last home of her parents, was on the east side of the square. Hazel Goad and her family lived on the west side of the square. (Hazel was a daughter of Daisy Rainey Rice. For more about Hazel see the blog post of May 18, 2014, entitled Celebrating a Hundred-Year-Old Treasure.) Just to clarify a bit of family history - Lewis and Pearl Rainey lived on the south side of the square just east of Aunt Daisy’s home. Lewis was the older brother of Daisy, Emma, and Gladys, my grandmother. Rick Rice and his parents, Virgil and Helen, lived a short distance from the southeast corner of the square.
              There were always two cakes at these celebrations. Aunt Emma Buckley usually fixed the cake for Angie. Mother and Aunt Daisy shared an affinity for the color pink so Mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, enjoyed baking and decorating a cake for her aunt - a cake that always included pink in some way. No matter the cake or frosting flavors, both cakes were always created with much love.

Angie Gates Bradley and Aunt Daisy Dean Rainey Rice just before "Happy
Birthday" was sung and the delicious,homebaked cakes were sliced and sampled.
This photograph was taken in 1966, at the celebration hosted by Aunt Daisy at
her home.

            Understandably, Angie always was much more excited about the gifts than Aunt Daisy was. Looking at the expression of delight on Angie’s face in the photographs, one can tell she was a happy, little girl. Aunt Daisy's birthday joy derived from being surrounded by her family. She wanted nothing more than to be with her loved ones. Her motto was "The more the merrier." Sharing a happy time together as a family was paramount.

The "Two Cakes Celebration" in 1967. Grandma Mamie Tripp Gates, Dawn
Rice Haney, me, Rick Rice, Aunt (actually Great-Aunt) Daisy Rainey Rice,
Edmund Gates, Jr., my father. Angie Gates Bradley is barely visible above her
cake baked by Aunt Emma Rainey Buckley!

Rick Rice, Angie Gates Bradley, me with my side to camera, Dawn Rice Haney
in the living room of our home as Angie opens gifts in 1967. Rick's parents and
 Dawn's parents had helped my parents and grandparents build our home in 1961.

Grandma Mamie Gates (partially visible), Edmund Gates, Jr., Elmer Rice, Angie
sitting on Grandpa Calvin Callcayah Smith's lap, Daisy Rainey Rice with Ruby
 Martin Rice standing behind. This was taken in Aunt Daisy's kitchen in 1966.
Grandpa and Elmer probably had just had a good laugh over some political comment.

              No matter where or when we create good memories, the foremost remembrance involves people. There may be funny happenings, lovely surroundings, delightful food, or beautiful music, but the key reason we cherish those times centers around our loved ones. In light of this, we should, as we live our daily lives, hold close in our hearts, in our thoughts, and in our prayers those we love. Living life this way diminishes future regrets.

       

           This photo was snapped of Angie Gates Bradley and Ronnie Rice just as the
          delightful evening was ending. Ronnie lived many years with his grandmother,
         Daisy Rice after Virgil and Dean, her younger children, left home following their
father, Ernest Rice's death. Aunt Daisy did not like to be alone and loved to
have her family members around her.

Lesson From a Fallen Tree

This article first appeared in the August 2008 issue of Mature Living. When I originally wrote this I had men like Bro. Charles Welch and Steve Gates in mind as they both courageously battled cancer. Since its first publication, I have observed so many women and men who became even stronger in spirit when in a physically weakened condition and in turn, blessed immeasurably all they encountered.

Several times a week I pass this downed tree that inspired the article
below. It continues to leaf out in the spring.

Down But Not Destroyed

      While feeding the cattle with my father, I spotted a tree trunk that had fallen near his hay shed. It appeared to be dead. I asked my father what had caused the tree to die. He told me to look carefully. I noticed even though the trunk was lying on the ground, from its short limbs a few tiny green leaves were emerging.
      I began to reflect on lessons the unique tree had to teach. Many people encounter situations in their lives that seem to “down” them. A cloud of spiritual inadequacy descends upon these believers who so fervently desire to honor God but experience such difficulty in their endeavor. Yet God delights in taking these seeming failures and chooses to use them beyond what they could imagine. 
      What causes that tree to continue producing leaves in its poor condition? Its unseen roots are strong and deep enough to sustain the tree. Daily study of God’s Word, time spent in prayer, and cultivation of a love relationship with Him will put down spiritual roots. In one sense, the tree has been prepared earlier in its existence for this season of hardship.
     When in a “downed” situation, take heart and know God has a purpose and will use it to glorify Himself. Thank God for His blessings. Grow deep in Him, putting down roots in preparation for whatever may be encountered, knowing and being confident He is always present wherever His beloved ones find themselves.
 2 Corinthians 4:7-9
Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us.  We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are struck down but not destroyed.  
                                                                         Holman Christian Standard Bible

Robert Bernard Gates

This week will mark one hundred years since the death of the oldest child in the Ed and Mamie Gates family. This is based on the account as related to me by my father, Edmund Gates, Jr.

The Death of Little Robert

                The first of twelve babies was born to Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates on December 19, 1912. They named their firstborn son Robert Bernard. Little Robert could have been named for Mamie Irene’s stepfather, Robert “Bob” Black. (See the blog post entitled The Marriage of Robert and Nettie Black which was posted on October 6, 2013.) Another possibility for the source of the new baby’s name may have been Robert Bell Gates, the uncle of Edmund, Sr. My grandfather, Edmund, Sr. had lived for some time with Robert and his family in Illinois. (See the blog post entitled Early Days of Edmund Gates, Sr. dated December 1, 2013.)

This is a photograph of the young family. The man at the extreme left of the

photograph is unidentified. To the right of the team of horses is Edmund Gates, Sr. Next to him is Little Robert and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates. This same house was featured in the blog post entitled Miracles at the Little House, which was posted on July 20, 2014.

                 My grandma always preceded his name with the adjective "little" when she talked of her first baby. In the late summer of 1914, Little Robert became ill with summer complaint, a case of acute diarrhea contracted by little ones mainly due to food contamination. It seemed to strike most frequently in the late summer primarily due to the lack of refrigeration and the excessive heat usually experienced in July and August. According to my father’s account, Edmund, Sr., his father, said Little Robert was about over his case of summer complaint. Then his in-laws, Bob and Nettie Black came to visit with their children. Grandpa told how Ruby, Grandma’s half sister who was age 5, fed Little Robert green apples. This brought a reoccurrence of acute diarrhea leading to excessive dehydration that his little body could not overcome. On September 15 in 1914, my grandparents’ precious little firstborn son died. Thus, the first of many members of the Gates family was buried in Pixley Cemetery, a few miles from the land that would become the family farm in 1917

The first family portrait with Edmund, Sr. holding Little Robert
with Mamie Irene to their right.

               How difficult to fathom the excruciating anguish my grandparents must have experienced during those last days prior to Little Robert’s death when none of the remedies they tried eased the suffering of their little twenty-month-old toddler. As I reflect on this overwhelmingly sad time in my grandmother’s life, it is hard to imagine how a nineteen -year-old mother would be able to walk away from the tiny grave in the cemetery on the lonely hill overlooking the Arkansas River.  Only other mothers who have buried one of their dearly loved children can empathize with the crushing internal pain that my grandma was feeling.  My next thought is actually a question. Do mothers today or any of us, for that matter, realize how blessed we are with modern medicine? If a little one today is experiencing an illness similar to what Little Robert had, a pediatric drink to replace the lost electrolytes or a brief hospital stay to cure the dehydration with intravenous feedings will have the toddler healthy soon. I hope that in the 21^st century we will consciously remember the devastating heartaches faced and conquered by our ancestors amidst harsh conditions. Hopefully, we faithfully give thanks for the innumerable blessings we have that those who went before us would yearn to have. Whether we need to steadily plod each day or cope with a sudden, horrific tragedy as my grandparents dealt with 100 years ago, may their examples of steadfastness and resiliency strengthen us in our own resolve.

The only baby picture of Little Robert.
Grandma had written on the back: Robert
Bernard Five months, 16 days old. Notice
it was still the style to dress all babies
whether boys or girls in fancy, little white
gowns.

Tombstone marking the grave of
Robert Bernard Gates in Pixley Cemetery
in the West Big Bend Community. (as
seen on findagrave.com).

Only in the Country

I originally wrote this in the summer of 2009, but it is just one of the many reasons why people still choose to live many miles from stores, hospitals, cultural happenings, and 1,000,001 other things that most people deem "necessities."

Traffic Delay in the Country

            Near my parents’ farm, a bridge spans the Arkansas River. The bridge completed in the 1920s was constructed with only Model-Ts in mind; after all, they were the most modern mode of transportation for the ordinary family at the time. Most drivers view it as a one-lane bridge, but my father always reminds me that it is a two-lane bridge – by early twentieth century standards.

The Belford Bridge over the Arkansas River on the east end where I was waiting.

             One summer afternoon as I approached the west end of the bridge, I could tell my parents’ rural mail carrier was waiting ahead of me. I knew that meant a vehicle traveling east was approaching us on the bridge. After waiting a few minutes, a combine belonging to a custom cutter slowly appeared. I deduced that it was a custom cutter from out of our area since I did not recognize him. Everyone knows everyone else in a rural area like ours.
            The postal carrier and I waited a little longer and another piece of machinery emerged followed by a grain truck. I waved at each vehicle because that is just how it is in our little community. Friendliness abounds.

           As another grain truck appeared, I could tell the postal carrier was waving and the driver of the wheat truck had his left arm extended vigorously waving back at her.  As the truck passed my car, I could tell it was my cousin flashing a warm smile at me as he waved cordially. Behind him was another wheat truck driven by his nephew who I had taught in my third grade classroom over 15 years earlier. We always hug when we meet, but since we were both in vehicles a hearty wave had to do. 

Tim (the cousin) and Susan Gates with Jayson (the nephew) and Lori Gates.

Connie Jo Evatt Goad, the
Big Bend's Rural Carrier

         While I drove the mile or so more to reach my parents’ farm, I couldn’t help but reflect that only in a rural area could a traffic delay leave a person in a terrific mood with such a strong feeling of warmth and friendliness. Why is that? In the Bend, there is such a strong sense of community. People genuinely care about what is happening to their neighbors. They live out the teaching of Jesus when He said in Mark 12:31, "Love your neighbor as yourself." My ninety-year-old father would say, “That’s why I live here!”
         To top it off, it made Dad’s afternoon when I arrived at the farm and when he asked who I had seen, I replied to his delight that his nephew and great-nephew had almost fallen out of the truck to wave at the east end of the bridge. Oh, that traffic delays were like this elsewhere!

Jayson Gates with his great-uncle, Edmund Gates, Jr., my father.