Five sisters faced difficulties in life. Each unique. Each stressful. And each life choice seriously tested their faith. These sisters had the same background with similar genes but were confronted with different issues in life.
They lived in Oklahoma during the 1930s Dust Bowl, and I’m really excited to share their stories with you. Read a short story about each one.
Mary Bobbie, the oldest and most jovial of the sisters, keeps a terrible secret for eight years. Will her husband be devastated if he finds out she had a part in their child’s death? Will he still respect her?
Sally Matilda, once a high school football queen, marries the school’s handsome running back. Her perfect life shatters when he falls into abusiveness and addictions. How will she respond when a life-changing crisis arises?
Susie May, the petite, shy middle sister, marries the most attractive band director in the country. After many moves and disappointments, what will she do when his tragic, double life becomes known in her hometown?
Annie Crump still grieves the loss of her fiancé, but a tall, good-looking barber melts her heart. For some reason, he never tells her about his former life. How will she respond when an ex-wife appears and files a lawsuit to take everything they own/
The oldest and most jovial of the sisters keeps a terrible secret for eight years. Will her husband be devastated if he finds out she had a part in their child’s death? Will he still love her?
Each of the five sisters face extreme circumstances that tests their faith. Living in Hollis, Oklahoma, during the 1930s Dust Bowl makes these issues more challenging. Based on true stories, I hope you’ll love the tales of these sisters as I release them – one every few weeks.
A campfire outside provided us with perfect hamburgers and baked sweet potatoes. Numerous stars shone before the full moon rose and glowed on the woods around us. Nearby, Bill’s barn sat halfway completed.
At the last minute, we had decided to camp in the upstairs of the barn. We had electricity, running water, and a toilet. What more could we want? I brought a few blankets, pillows and two blow up beds. But a barn without insulation or heat is about the same as sleeping outside. Cold as a deep winter freeze.
It got down to in the forties. Maybe not cold compared to Alaska, but cold for Oklahoma. I wore long johns, two shirts and socks. Bill, thankfully, brought me a sleeping bag. He didn’t need one because he LOVES cold weather. He took two blankets, and I folded the third blanket to spread over my sleeping bag.
Still chilly, I unzipped the sleeping bag and slipped on my light jacket and nestled down again.
Now I can’t sleep until my body temperature is somewhere above 100 degrees, so once he began snoring, I wiggled out of the sleeping bag one more time, pulled on his extra pants and heavy Cabella hoodie, and wiggled back into the sleeping bag.
Still cold, I pulled the hoodie over my head and lay quiet listening to the outside sounds. Now only my feet and nose were like ice.
The small space heater faced my derriere. I moved it to my feet. Then to my face. Any warmth it might have blown out instantly vanished through the thin walls. I wanted to shove my husband and invite him into my sleeping bag, but he had dislodged his blankets and spread out like a comfortable Polar bear.
Of course, the next thing that happens in the middle of a camping night is the necessity of a bathroom trip.
The toilet was outside –down the stairs. Back into the barn.
I tried to be quiet as I wormed out of my cocoon again, turned on my cell phone light, put on my shoes, and snuck out the door. Bill didn’t hear a thing. I shone the light around the wooded area, heard nothing, and ventured down the wooden stairs around the corner. It was so cold I could see my breath.
I opened the downstairs barn door, saw moving shadows, screamed, and jumped back.
We had seen raccoons and deer and snakes around the place. I calmed myself down. The light played on the four wheelers, looking spooky, but I saw no movement, not even a field mouse, only my shaking light. I stumbled through a scattering of wood, tools, and other men’s toys, until I got to the toilet. There’s something weird about stripping down four layers of clothing in the middle of a barn when it’s freezing weather.
Safely back upstairs, I decided to wear my shoes to bed to help keep my feet warm. I climbed into the sleeping bag with them on. The zipper of the bag got stuck halfway open and it took fifteen minutes to loosen it. Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep, as I tossed and turned to stay warm. I finally fell asleep toward morning.
The sun wasn’t up yet when I heard Bill stretch and exclaim, “That was a great night, wasn’t it?” A chipper camper is not the first thing I wanted to hear. He heated water for hot chocolate, and watched the sun come up.
When I slowly crawled out of my sleeping bag, he turned to look at me and laughed. “Well, good morning, Michelin man. How did you sleep?” With my layers of clothing, topped off with his huge pants and oversized hoodie, I suppose I did look like a stuffed elephant.
I wanted to slug him, but what could I do when he brought me a cup of hot tea? After all, I had swiped his hoodie and refused to give it back.
Didn’t the Lord teach that all people will know that we are followers if we love each other? John 13:35
Ah. Yes. We love one another even if we have differences.
Many people have asked when my third historical book in the Promise series will be released. I’ve researched and written throughout the year, and the book is almost, almost completed. I plan to publish it in early 2019, and the tentative title is A Promise of Hope.I’m excited to share it with you!
The incidents in the books are taken from family autobiographies, interviews, newspaper articles, and other published texts. Many fellow writer and people from Shanwee, Oklahoma, have given important input. However, the details are primarily memories from my mother, Margaret Pope, the baby born in the first book, A Promise to Break.
This year, my mother developed bladder cancer. She has gone through a lot of treatments, been seriously ill at times and, at 85 years old, is weak. For a strong woman who had a secretarial job at her church until she was 84, it has been difficult. Chemotherapy did not work and she ended up in the hospital for four days afterward, so she is taking immunotherapy. The last cat scan showed that the treatment is working, so we are hopeful that by next year she’ll have gained her strength and health back, enjoying life as much as she always has. Our hope is in the Lord’s mercy.
The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him. In those who hope in his mercy. Psalm 147:11
Our family appreciates all your prayers and concerns.
In the meantime, I have been working on a series of historical short stories. The five stories are about my Grandma Akin and her sisters during the 1930s in Hollis, Oklahoma. Each sister dealt with different issues. I look forward to sharing their lives with you soon.
We had nine of our grandchildren for three days for Cousins Camp! The other three grandkids couldn’t make it this year. The kids played, partied, and spent time together. We went to Paint Your Art Out with some second cousins, which was their favorite part of the camp. We also had food art, devotionals about God’s animals, Minute to Win It, indoor and outdoor games, and of course swimming. We visited an art gallery and had a game finding old pictures at an antique store. We always watch old movies or cartoons. This year’s highlight was Dick Tracey and Scooby Doo.
We learned that God created animals and made each one special just like he makes each person special. Humans are different because we’re made in God’s image, meaning we have a spirit that can relate to Him. However, we’re told to take good care of all of God’s creation.
We have some great artists in the bunch! Love them all!