When I was a little girl, I loved to go to my Grandma and Grandpa Hill's. They lived on a farm and we lived close to them.
Grandma always had biscuits and molasses and I became very hungry when I went there.
They didn't have a lot of money, but they always had company who enjoyed eating with them. Grandma always set a good table. No matter how many came, there was plenty for all.
Grandpa drove a team of horses and they went to town in a hack, which was kind of like a buggy with no top. I went with them many times.
Before they started out for the long trip, Grandma would run out and grab three or four old fat hens and tie their feet and put them in a sack. Along with her bucket of cream, she took them to the produce store and sold them for coffee, sugar and whatever else she needed.
They kept their milk, butter and cream in a spring near the house. The water kept it all nice and cool. They also had a big garden.
The kinfolk from Kansas City used to come when they got their vacations, and whole families stayed at Grandma's. They had a small log house, but somehow she managed. I don't know where they all slept, but everybody was happy and loved one another. I will always remember going to their house.
Back in 1955 a call went out from the editors of the then Capper’s Weekly asking for readers to send in articles on true pioneers. Hundreds of letters came pouring in from early settlers and their children, many now in their 80s and 90s, and from grandchildren of settlers, all with tales to tell. So many articles were received that a decision was made to create a book, and in 1956, the first My Folks title – My Folks Came in a Covered Wagon – hit the shelves. Nine other books have since been published in the My Folks series, all filled to the brim with true tales from Capper’s readers, and we are proud to make those stories available to our growing online community.
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