Traveling the Rock Road

This is a story I wrote over ten years ago, and it bears repeating so I hope you enjoy it.

Growing up I learned a lot from my Great Aunt Pearl and the things she taught me. Ma, as I referred to her, did the best she could and I loved her dearly. But Ma had mental, emotional, and physical issues that limited what she could do. So, enter Pearly Mae with her ways and stories of years gone by. One of my favorites was the story of thirty cents.

It was during the 1940s; the Great Depression was over, and WW2 was in full swing. Pearl and her husband Price were living in Eastern Kentucky, an area that still was recovering from the Depression. Price was disabled so Aunt Pearl had to do anything she could to support them. One way was gardening.

Ask anyone who knew her and they would tell you she always grew the biggest and best garden. This one year was no exception. Looking at the harvest she knew they’d have enough vegetables that she canned to last till next year. One major problem. Before she went to cooking and canning everything, she was going to need preservative to go into each can. She figured how much she was going to need and the cost. Thirty cents. Now, to you and me in this era in which $.30 isn’t a whole lot of money. Back then prices were much lower to match folk’s wages. But when you are completely broke, it might as well be a million dollars. But my beloved Aunty wasn’t one to fret or see any scenario as hopeless. She may have had only a 7^th grade education, but she was highly intelligent, resourceful, and above all she had faith in her Lord.  Pearl held strong to the belief that He wouldn’t let her down. So, she began to pray. “Lord, I know you didn’t have me raise this big garden just to see it all go to waste. Please send me thirty cents.” When she finished praying it was if a small still voice was speaking to her. “Go to the attic and look in the pockets of coats. So, she did. Sure enough, she found several pennies. As she was getting ready to go back downstairs the voice spoke again. “Look in those old pocketbooks you have up here.” Again, she found a few more cents. She stopped to thank God for what she had already found, when the whisper returned. “Look down inside the sofa and cushion chairs.” Jackpot again! A few more of those copper Lincolns. This went on for about an hour. Pearl stopping to pray. The voice telling her where to look, a few more pennies and back to prayer again, until the voice stopped. Taking her precious find she sat down at the kitchen table to count them out. 1,2,3,8,9,14,21,28,29. $.30 exactly. Now one would have thought that Pearly Mae jumped up from the table, raced to the store to buy her precious preservative. But she couldn’t. The tears started slowly but gave way to crying almost uncontrollably. Not because she was sad. As she explained in her own words; “I felt God has just made me the richest woman in the world, and I wanted time to sit and praise my Lord for blessing me so abundantly.”

Anon: “Every time you thank God for a little thing, you shift your heart away from complaining and toward His grace.”

1 Thessalonians 5:18: “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

When Pearl told me this story, she had two lessons she wanted me to learn. The first was never take for granted even the smallest of anything, for you never know if that will be what you’ll need then or in the future. She said to me: “With $.30 God made me feel rich in Him. There was another person where 30 pieces of silver became worthless to him; all because he turned his back on Jesus. The second, trust God, talk to Him continuously, and believe He cares enough for you to answer your prayers. Perhaps not the way you were expecting, but through His love, He will answer your prayers.

My Pearly Mae completed her “Travels of the Rock Road” over 40 years ago. But I have never forgotten the lessons she taught on life, survival in this world, and most of all to trust everything to God for He cares for you and me. Her final earthly resting place is on a hillside in West Virginia. Many years ago, I buried three dimes at the head of her gravestone. Often when I visit, I’ll dig those dimes up and hold them in my hand, remembering how much she loved me, and how much she wanted me to love and trust her Lord. Still here carrying on your memory, Pearly Mae.  Still living by what you taught me. Which means.

Trusting Jesus.

See you next time!