When I Was a Little Girl

By Linda Hicks

When you were little girls, I would tuck you into bed and you would say tell me a story about when you were a little girl. I would sift through my memories and begin.

When I was little girl, we would slide under the fence and run down to the pig house. If no one was home, we would sneak inside and jump and roll and bury ourselves in the leaves. When the pigs returned, they would look at us as if to say, “Ok, you’ve had your fun. It’s our turn now.” We would walk back home, picking leaves off our clothes and out of our hair as we plodded along.

When I was a little girl, we would watch the mama cat until she went from plump to thin. Then we would search the barn loft until we found the newborn kittens. We knew not to touch them or their mama would move them and we would have to begin our search again. But as soon as their eyes

opened, we started spoiling those babies. We spent hours in the barn loft holding those precious kittens.

When I was a little girl, we would wait for the summer shower to end so that we could go back outside to continue our adventures. We would find the ooziest mud and tromp around, letting the ooey-gooey slime squish between our toes. When we got back home, Mama would say, “Let’s get all that mud off so you won’t get toe itch.” We went to the old well and she would turn on the hose so we could scrub our feet before we went inside.

When I was a little girl, we would play in Granny’s basement while Mama, Granny, and the aunts would quilt. The adults would sew and chat while we camped under our patchwork tent. Every now and then, we were called to duty to search for a runaway needle or thimble. When the quilt was finished, Granny would spread it out and we would have a treasure hunt as we pointed out scraps from our favorite shirts, dresses, and gowns.

When I was a little girl, we would get a canning jar from the cabinet and Daddy would tap holes in the lid. As the sun set, we would catch lightning bugs and carefully place them in the jar so that none would escape. We could keep the flashing fireflies for one night. With our own personal nightlight, we felt like we were sleeping in the big outdoors although we were snug inside our own little bedroom.

When I was a little girl, all the neighborhood children would walk to our house because we had “the grapevine.” Way down in the cow pasture, where the wild grape vines use to grow, one old vine hung high on the hill. We would climb to the top of the hill and unwrap the vine from its home tree. We would hug the vine, take a deep breath, and hold on for dear life as we sailed through the air. We felt like Tarzan swinging through our cow pasture jungle.

When I was a little girl, we would put on our oldest shorts and tee shirts and walk down to the creek. We would splash in the muddy water, catch minnows, and skip rocks. Mama always warned us to watch out for water moccasins, but no snake would dare come around with such wild creatures invading its habitat.

When I was a little girl, we would take the egg basket and head out to look for eggs. It was Easter every day. Sometimes we would get really lucky and find an old nest. The eggs would be dark and heavy and we knew that we were in for a special treat. We would take the ancient eggs and hike to the far end of the woods. Then, we would choose a target, take aim, and fire. Our grenades would explode with a horrifying stench. The air grew heavy with an unbearable odor as we ran gasping, eyes watering, safely back home.

When I was a little girl, summer Sunday afternoons were special. The aunts, uncles, and cousins would gather at my grandparents’ house. We would play tag in the big yard while Granny got the ice cream freezer ready. Then, we would all share the fun of turning the crank until the ice cream started to get hard. It would be time for Pa to take over as we ran to get bowls and spoons and line up to enjoy the cold, creamy coolness of homemade ice cream.

When I was a little girl, the old house was our personal playhouse. We spent many hours playing hide-and-seek and house and treasure hunting. We would crank the antique record player, talk on the ancient telephone and lie across the old, faded sofa. The front porch was our stage where we would sing and dance for an imaginary audience.

When I was a little girl, mama would tuck us into bed and we would say tell us a story about when you were a little girl. She would sift through her memories and say “When I was a little girl . . .”