The Other Day I was Thinking About Africa

these are my "Wellie Boots" purchased at the Woolworth's in Johannesburg

The other day, in the snow, I was trucking around in my floral wellie boots. They made me think of the days I trucked around in South Africa.

I bought the boots there. At Woolworth's. No, That is not a "five and dime with a soda fountain". It is an upscale grocery store that became wealthy during apartheid because its British owners found some way to stay open during all the economic sanctions. You can buy wonderful things at Woolworths; from delicious fresh groceries to furniture to bubble bath. I went there a lot, and sometimes to more than one of their locations in a single day, because supply levels were never quite "on" and I'd find that one store lacked ingredients for a recipe-so I'd have to fill in those gaps at another.

But that's not what I was thinking about.

Maybe its because I had asked my mom and sister if they'd read the book "The Help". I too had a "help" when we lived in Joburg. Evie kind of "came with the house". Her services were part of the arrangement made by my husband's employers and the home owners. Every morning about 7.30 a.m. she would take her key and unlock the back door, go into the skullery and begin her "chores". I did not dictate to her what she would do that day, I worked hard to NOT tell Evie what to do. But her chores always involved our laundry (even my undewear; so embarrassing) and very often she washed our dishes. She wiped down the many glass panels and windows at least once each week-she used newspapers to do this and I often wondered how she never had streaks, because in America if I washed my windows with newspapers there would be newsprint on my hands and all over the glass when I was through.

that is, if I ever washed my windows, of course.

Evie heard me, every day, trying to parent. She heard the kids complain about home school. She heard us say family prayers, she heard me teach in the school room, she heard us play in the yard. Evie helped me cook the food for the ward Christmas Party and she even came to the party because I invited her to. She listened and saw as I tried desperately to potty train Molly. My deepest regret about Africa is that I yelled at my kids in her presence. I fear I was not consistent with what I said I believed and how I behaved on my worst of days (and I had worst of days over there, for sure).

I wondered the other day how Evie felt about us. If she thought fondly on her time among Grahams or if she did a little jig as the blue van that drove us everywhere pulled out of the drive for the last time, on its way to deliver us back to the place we had come from.

Did she feel sad we were gone? I thought about the gifts I left with her; a Book of Mormon translated into Xhosa, a scrapbook with letters from each person in our family, and some other less significant things. Does she have them still? Did she read the book? What has she thought of us now that we are a memory? Did my less than acceptable mothering stay behind to paint us as less than good people? Or does the goodness of us remain, to cheer for the truth in the book that I gave her with tears in my eyes as we parted?

I pray that the good overshadows the bad, and that my mothering in her view was not a distraction from the truth of the things I believe. All that thinking about Evie has made me take a really serious look at how I behave when there is only a group of children at home to observe the consistency of me; the ones who I preach to and teach every day, do they see the same things Evie Saw?

Yes, and probably more too. It causes me to ponder on how I can be more like the things I say I believe in. Why should they bother to try out my preachings if my doings don't bring them (and me) some joy in the fruits of all the labor?

I tried to be a good example for Evie, but I see now more than ever that I must try harder. For Evie is a memory from Africa, but my children are all around me. And they are judging and choosing the path they will walk by watching-not hearing-my life.

Its just what was thinking about the other day, as I trucked in the snow in my Wellies.