Clay in the Potter’s Hand

Chapter 1

Life on the Farm

It was a bitter-cold winter in France where the US troops were stationed during World War I. Many men died from the cold and disease. Robert Adolphus Terry became one of the lucky few who left France with only frostbitten hands and feet.

When the war was over, Robert returned to the States and was discharged from the army. On October 19, 1919, he and Lucille Hale were united in marriage in the Methodist church in Concord, Arkansas. They made their home in Bossier City, Louisiana, a suburb of Shreveport, where Robert found work in an oil refinery. On July 29, 1922, I was born, and two years later my sister, Naomi, was born.

I have few memories of the years that my family lived in Bossier City because we moved to the farm when I was four years old. We moved into the house of my mama’s daddy. Daddy and Mama farmed Grandpa’s land until Daddy could build our house on the land he had inherited when his daddy died.

My parents worked hard for the next several years. They farmed Grandpa’s land, helped the neighbors with their crops, and cleared the land for our house. Mama did the cooking, washing, and housekeeping for our family, Grandpa, and several of her brothers. Mama’s brothers worked at a sawmill near where our house would eventually be built.

After many long hours of hard work, our house was finally ready for us to move in. Since our life was simple, we only had to move the bare necessities. Daddy built a table and bench, a pie safe, and a utility table. He also bought us a wood cookstove. We had four iron beds with springs and mattresses, bedclothes, our clothes, a few dishes, and some pots and pans. When we moved into our new home, we each had our own space and we were happy with it.

Our life on the farm was busy; we all worked hard because there was so much that had to be done. We worked like busy beavers to plant crops and prepare pastures for the livestock. Firewood had to be cut for heating and cooking. We built cribs to store crops and a smokehouse to smoke meat. Storage was built for the canned goods Mama put up from our garden. It seemed the list of things to do never ended. Daddy and Mama were hard workers, and they taught us kids to work hard as well. Back then, children learned early in their lives to share their own part of the workload.

As I look back over those years, it was amazing how quickly the new house came to look as if we had always lived there, especially with all of the chores that had to be done each day. When we first moved into the house, our water supply came from a nearby spring. After Naomi fell into the spring, Daddy and a neighbor dug a well. That was a great help, because we no longer had to carry water from the spring to the house. We also kept our milk and butter in the well to keep them cool.

This all happened during the Great Depression. Many suffered greatly and some died during this period, but we were shielded from this; we didn’t know how bad things had become until much later. We grew most of our own food, and Daddy traded produce for the items we had to buy. Mama canned over one thousand jars of fruits and vegetables each year, and we raised our own meat. During the winter, Daddy killed rabbits—we ate rabbit and squirrel a lot. We never lacked food. Mama made our clothes. Life for us was so much better than it was for many people.

During the Depression years, my parents had four more children. Our three-room house became crowded and full of life. Mama had everything organized so life moved along smoothly. The children each knew what their duties were, and we either did them or suffered at Mama’s hand. She was a perfectionist, so if we didn’t do our work correctly, we had to do it over until it passed her inspection. The principle of “If you’re going to do a job, do it right” has greatly impacted my life.

Life on the farm wasn’t always hard work; there were some times of real joy and fun. For me, it was a time for learning many lessons which have been valuable throughout my life. Many spiritual lessons and analogies came from living on the farm. Just as God works with us to grow and mature, so did we care for the plants tenderly to keep them from being uprooted. The Word of God begins to grow in an individual, just as a plant grows, and when each is stable and healthy, the wait begins for fruit to appear and mature. Such joy comes of seeing the increase.

I loved the time my family spent outside, particularly our walks in the woods during the spring. I felt so close to God during those nature walks, when different fragrances filled the air. It was as though God was saying to me, “Look how much I love you,” as the gentle breezes blew through the pine trees and the pine scent filled the air.

I enjoyed the sounds, too. The sound of the wind blowing through the pine trees was like the pines were singing praises to the Lord. In the spring, the redbud, blackberry, and dogwood trees bloomed, and all of the trees dressed themselves in their different shades of green. It was as though they were dancing and singing with all their hearts, announcing the arrival of spring. The birds would be busy making homes for their new families, singing as they worked. It was such a beautiful demonstration of God’s creation. As a child, I absorbed it all.

There were two places on the farm I particularly loved and enjoyed during springtime. One was a hill covered with violets at the back of the pasture. It was my job to round up the calves early in the morning before we milked the cows; the cows were penned up overnight and the calves were put out to pasture. I would roll down the hill, crushing the violets so I could smell their lovely perfume. I was so tempted to lie at the foot of that hill, gazing up at the predawn sky, at the few stars lingering before the sun caused them to disappear. I dared not delay, though, because there was work to be done—but I did so love those beautiful violets.

Another special place was the spring-fed stream near our house at the bottom of the hill. In that place, jack-in-the-pulpits grew and bloomed. One Sunday morning, after I had done my chores, I went down and sat on a log near the stream and pretended that Jack was giving a message from his pulpit. Just at that moment, a red bird flew past and perched on a limb just above the stream. He also seemed to be listening to the message. I truly believe that God is everywhere, that all of nature proclaims His presence. Unfortunately, too few people have time to recognize Him in His creation.

In the fall, the leaves were beautiful as they changed to red, orange, yellow, and gold. My family would take buckets and fill them with hickory nuts, walnuts, and wild chestnuts as we went through the woods. At night, we would shell them so Mama could cook with them. We always looked forward to Christmas Eve, when my family went into the woods to find the perfect Christmas tree. After all of the chores were done, we would string popcorn and make colored-paper chains to place on the tree. Then we would wait through the long night to get an apple, an orange, nuts, and candy on Christmas morning. Each of us got a gift from Santa. We looked forward to this time all year.

When it snowed in the winter, Daddy would have me put on wool stockings, and then he used bailing wire to tie old inner tubes around my legs and feet; these were my boots for a trip in the snow. It was beautiful as we walked through the pastures with the snow glistening on the cedars in the sun. It was an awesome sight to look over the rolling hills covered in pure-white snow.