There should be a law: Against having to listen to the same old jokes, stories and memories of old people who forgot they already said that; To throw out leftovers after the second day so nobody has to eat them; Against trapping cats and taking them to the pound where they charge $50 to redeem them and if nobody does they put them down; Against keeping children from living in senior mobile home parks, as the residents could use a smile and a little bit of happiness once in a while.
There should also be a law against getting old, when getting out of bed hurts every bone and muscle and the only fun is waiting for the social security check to come in the mail once a month. When I was 8 years old, I walked down a dusty road on a Sunday morning to go to the one Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints church way up a big hill; it was my day to get baptized and my sins were going to be washed away, so I would have to be careful never to sin again. What a joy to be so innocent, so naive, and to live in a small town where that might have almost been possible. I want to move back home.
After 74 years of living in many big cities, and now seeing the news where little kids are kidnapped and murdered nearly every day�terrorists are scaring everybody with threats daily�money always runs out the last week of every month. We live in a sterile mobile home park for senior citizens where they trap every cat which walks across anyone’s yard. They take them either to the pound where nobody can afford the $50 to redeem them, or else they dump the cats in the hills and deserts to die.
I remember Ferron, where my Mama and Daddy fed and took care of every cat and kitten born to “Mitzy” our calico cat. We fed the whole bunch fresh, warm milk and leftover biscuits and gravy and meat scraps. At one time my dad decided Mitzy had to quit having kittens so he took her clear over to Huntington and dumped her out (without Mama knowing about it.) Guess what? Mitzy walked back home and nobody ever did that awful thing again. At one time we had about 30 cats and kittens living in the barns and haystacks.
I remember the last time I lived in Ferron (I was getting old by then) they were so kind to us old folks, they even let us drive to town without speeding past us or trying to run us off the road into a ditch.
I remember all the fun and happiness of neighbors and friends who loved each other and took care of each other and forgave the sin of getting old and infirm and shaky.
God bless the good old days and the good hometown folks!
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