Life in our Home
By Vera W. Hardy
Life in the Samuel and Bertha Tobler Wittwer home as I remember it was busy, happy, full of faith and love for the gospel and love for family.
We were taught early in life to have our secret prayers and we always had family prayers morning and night.
We were taught to respect authority, church, parants, brothers and sisters, and elderly people. If we were asked by anyone to do something we were supposed to do it. I remember once I thought papa was spending more time in Santa Clara than with us, and I voiced my opinion. Mama soon let me know that papa knew what he could do and what was best. I was not to worry about it or question him. My older brothers and sisters were to be obeyed when they asked me to do things, I was to do it just like it was papa or mama asking me. As I was the youngest in our family your can see that sometimes I thought there were a lot of people who had authority over me. But they were all good to me and I got a lot of love.
Papa, was a good provider and mama was a. good cook and sewer and knew how to take care things. So we always had plenty to eat and wear.
They both believed in the motto “If a. thing is worth doing at all it is worth doing well.” So we were all taught to work and do a good job.
I loved the times when we knew papa was coming home. We always walked up out of town to meet him. I remember how his whiskers tickled my face when he kissed me, (but I loved those kisses), I also remember the goodies he always had left in his lunch box especially the cheese.
Papa always spent the first day or so fixing everything that needed fixing. Then he went to work in the field.
Mother and Father always had a. good a, garden and vineyard. Mother always got up early before we were awake and spent an hour or so weeding. ‘ We girls didn’t do much weeding, I guess she was afraid we would hoe up some of the vegetables. I loved the long winter evenings when we would sit around the warm stove and eat parched corn, raisins and dried figs, some times we had molasses candy or taffy. We would read or study or sometimes just talk and visit. I loved to just listen to papa. talk.
Some of my most pleasant memories were the holidays. My favorite holidays for summer were the 4th of July and the 24th of July. For the 4th mama always made stacks of grape pies, enough for the band wagon people, for us and our friends. I remenber the sleeping parties, the cannons booming at dawn, the band wagon, the pretty new dresses, the big bars of pink popcorn, the dishes of homemade icecream, (bought for a nickle), and our pretty fans, which helped us keep cool. I remember how hard I worked for weeks gleaning wheat and threshing it to get money for this great holiday.
On the 24th we dressed as pioneers or Indians. We had a parade through town which ended up at the town square. We formed a, circle with our wagons. The Indians came in with their feathers and paint and bows and arrows. There was a mock war, but we always made friends and invited the Indians to a, good dinner.
I remember the summer evenings when Brother Earl and his boys would get out their fife and drum and play. People from all over town came to listen. We lived right across the street so we were usually the first ones there. After they stopped playing and the older folks had gone home, we kids stayed and played games, Run Sheep Run, Pomp Pomp Pull Away, Steel the Sticks and any other game that came to mind. It was a fun time.
Thanksgiving was my favorite fall holiday. We always had a big family dinner. All the married children and their families came. We always had pumpkin and grape pie, cake, chicken and dressing, chicken and noodles, vegetables and good homemade rolls. Mama always made the grape pie and the chicken and noodles because nobody could make it as good as she could. It was a fun time for us kids.
Christmas was my favorite winter holiday. When I was small our town always had a big community Christmas tree at the church. It was a huge pine tree on the stage decorated with paper chains and all kinds of home made decorations and lighted with candles. I always thought it was the most wonderfull tree I had ever seen. One Christmas when they pulled the cuttain there were two of the most beautiful dolls I had ever seen right out in the front of the tree. We all aahed and oohed and wondered who the lucky ones would be. You can imagine how happy Myrtle and I were when Santa brought them to us. Mine was dressed in blue Myrtles in pink, there were little strings with beads on the end that we could pull and they would say “Mama and Papa”. Rhoda had been away going to High School at Cedar City and she had brought them home, She also brought Eldon a real little violin that Tom who was courting Rhoda could play real tunes on it. Never had we had presents like them before. Every year mama always seemed to give us a good Christmas.
For years we believed that Mother and Father was always helping Santa. But later we knew it was mama’s saving and planning and work that gave us our good Christmas.
When we didn’t have a tree mama always used the organ. One side for Myrtle, one side for me and the middle for Eldon, I remember the dolls wide flowered hair ribbons, books dresses and always a plate of goodies.
Another Christmas that stands out in my memory. My brother Harmon was very ill with pnemonia. It was just before Christmas. They had to move he and his two boys down to our place so mama and papa could take care of them. Merle and Ellis worried about Santa not being able to find them. I told them not to worry mania would take care of Santa, and she did we all had a good Christmas.
The spring holidays I liked were Easter and May Day. We always had new Easter dresses and pretty colored Easter eggs. Mama colored them with onion peels weeds and peach leaves. They were beautiful.
On May Day we always went for a town picnic up to the mountains or to some shady place in the fields. We always had fun playing games and swinging on the willow trees and eating our lunch.
I loved my home and family and the fun times we had. I thought they were the best.
Source: Brent Bunker