Morning Moments

Does anyone remember the days when life was simple and safe? Children played outside in the streets without fear of harm or abduction. Neighbors would visit each other or at least talk over the fence. Any adult could correct a misbehaving child and if indeed a parent was told it was trouble when you got home. If there was any such thing as a billionaire, no one knew him.

Oh, to be sure kids were kids and did some crazy things like hiding in the bushes to smoke rabbit tobacco. Chewing gum in school was about the worse thing one could do other than getting into a fight.

Teachers would send those who disrupted to the coach who would literally burn your behind. Young people did not look at older people as weird and older people did not have to worry about such stupidity as body piercing, cutting, children with no manners or respect. Kids obeyed their parents or suffered the consequence. To speak to an adult disrespectfully or using vile talk in public rarely ever happened.

Families when to church together and churches did things together with all ages. Ministers were always out among the people in their homes and businesses. Oh, there was no TV, no central heating nor air conditioning. There was genuine respect for all races generally.

Some of us were reared by a black woman who cooked and cleaned for us and who loved us as her own children. A woman for whom we had the greates respect and obeyed just as we would our mother.

There was peace and safety for all. That is how I grew up in South Georgia. We went horseback riding with the chief of police and we knew he cared about us kids. In the summer we went barefoot most of the time and would get an ocassional nail or piece of glass in our feet.

We would go to the farm and pick peanuts. Boil them and bag them and sell them for a nickle a bag in town. They were the cleanest and best boiled peanuts you ever ate.

There was one space heater in the house, so no one went to his or her room and shut everybody else out listening to loud music on headphones. Families talked and visited together and each was interested in the other.

I wonder if that is not what is called "the good old days." If so, Dear God, I wish they would come back to us. Life was simple and safe. Dear Jesus, I wish children today could know those times. I think we would have less ADHD, ADD, and whatever else they medicate kids for these days.