Winters in my northern Alabama home were not so severe that we had to stay inside for long periods of time, as is so in more northern states. Snows deep enough for snowballing, sledding, or building snowmen were seldom, and I don’t recall a single snowfall that stayed on the ground for days and days.
Living in the country and with few luxuries, we didn’t always have sufficient clothing for the worst of weather, but I enjoyed the outdoors and was seldom restrained from being outside whenever I wished. We didn’t seem to worry about bundling up for fear of getting sick. It seems there was an unwritten law that said as long as you can stand it, enjoy it. That may not be practical for all children, but my happy memories include those times of playing out in the very cold, fresh air.
My recollections may be somewhat colored by a childlike delight with snow and the fun it can provide for the young and the young at heart. On the other hand, I can remember times when my hands and feet were so cold that they had to be warmed slowly and gently back to usefulness.
One particularly cold experience, when I was about ten years old, was a fishing expedition with my parents. It was rather common knowledge that my parents loved to go fishing, but it was also a way of putting more food on the table for their family. There were many Saturdays and holidays from school that one or both of my parents went fishing, and on this very cold holiday, I decided that I must go along. After warning me of how cold it was and that there would be no turning back, they left the decision up to me. We rummaged around through the family clothing and came up with a snowsuit, a knitted hat and some gloves that I could wear, and we set out to go fishing.
We lived near some back waters created by dams on the Tennessee River, so there were several good fishing places within driving distance from home. Dad chose to drive down some back roads that took us only a few miles from our home at Oxford. We launched our boat and headed out across the cold, cold water in search of a good fishing spot. Dad probably, as he often did, looked for a tree top that had fallen into the water making a likely place to find a big school of crappie, but I don’t remember all of those details…I was cold! In fact, I was so cold there was no keeping me quiet enough for my dad, who was a fairly good fisherman , with some rather strict rules. The first rule was that of being quiet, and the second one was that of being patient. Fish must be given time to find your bait. According to this master fisherman, holding one’s mouth just right was very important. We didn’t really believe him, but this and many similar bits of humor added to the fun of fishing trips with Dad.
Because I could not control my shivering, Dad pulled up to the shore, built a good roaring fire near a nice big log that became a warm, comfortable place for me to sleep while my parents did the fishing. I don’t know how long I slept, but Mom and Dad caught the limit allowed for three fishermen and were forced to quit. They came back for me, rowed across the lake, and proceeded to take ‘our’ catch home.
On the way, we were to pass the home place of an uncle, who was a writer and photographer for a paper in Auburn, Alabama. As it happened, he, along with his wife and two children, were visiting his parents, and we stopped to show off our big string of fish. The men started talking about making a picture, but Mom would have nothing to do with posing for a photograph, so one of my cousins and I were selected to help hold up the heavy chain of fish.
Having been born and raised in the city, my cousin was not so accustomed to the slimy feel and strong smell of freshly caught fish as I. Dad held up one end of the chain and I strained with all my might to hold up the other, but it was really heavy. My cousin gingerly took hold of the chain in the middle and the picture was quickly taken. The strained look on my face, the delicate, ‘hurry-up-and-get-it-over-with’ look on my cousin’s face and my Dad’s proud look made an interesting picture of an unforgettable fishing trip.
I was a burden on my parents that wintry day, because I was not up to that adult task, but they quietly took care of my needs and were actually rewarded by being able to claim my limit of fish along with theirs!
Children often believe themselves more capable than they are, and no amount of reasoning to the contrary can change that belief. Parents, who can allow a child to participate in activities that are not harmful, will have more success when the answer has to be absolutely, “No.”