It had started snowing at bedtime the night before. How excited I was, for in our valley we only had snow once every few years and I loved snow. To me it was one of God's miracles. I awakened next morning as Dad was preparing to go to work. As I sat up I noticed someone had taken the pot, which we kept in the bedroom for night use, out. I remembered last night's snow and wanted to see if it was still there, so I decided I needed to use the outhouse. Ordinarily, I was very much afraid of the dark, but I pulled on my boots, put a coat over my pajamas and stepped outside.
Everything was covered with a 6-inch mantle of white. To this eleven-year-old it looked like a fairyland. All fear of night vanished. I walked slowly to the outhouse, visited it and walked slowly back to the house, savoring every moment of this magical world. In daylight it was beautiful, but the magical touch was gone.
As I look back now I am thankful we did not have indoor plumbing, otherwise I never would have been allowed out in the dark and would have missed this wonderland memory.
Mrs. Gale E. Cripe, Sr.
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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