This is a shameless plug for my new favorite book, The Help. It took me straight back to my childhood of Arvela Gaston and Eva Lou Sims--the two black ladies who raised me. Actually, Arvela really raised me--Eva Lou was just there in the beginning. They were both my white starched uniform world and I loved them more than anything or anybody. As I was number three, I spent a lot of time with them and Arvela taught me everything I know about cooking. I would stand on a chair up next to the "stove", as she called it, and my job was to stir whatever it was she was making--whether it needed it or not. Unless it was hot grease for fried chicken and then this baby chile wasn't allowed anywhere near that stove or I'd get pretend "whupped" with a wooden spoon. Law...she would have killed herself "if something had happen to her baby white chile".
Eva Lou was the one who fixed our hair in the tightest pony tail God ever created. That was back in the rubber band era and it hurt like hell to have that rubber band pulled out so I used to beg for Eva Lou to just cut it. She'd pull my hair so tight I swear I looked like I'd had one of those Miracle Lifts on TV--my face was literally s-t-r-e-t-c-h-ed. Arvela made the droopiest pony tail but it didn't hurt--it didn't stay up--but it didn't kill ya either.
I only remember Arvela bathing me probably because I was afraid Eva Lou might hold me under water. I remember being toweled dry with those gnarly brown hands and then powdered up with bath powder before she put on my nightgown. I even remember the step stool we had in our bathroom so I could brush my teeth, and our bathroom was that 1950's yellow tile.
Eva Lou scared me to death after she held me over the washing machine while it was going. Conveniently, I've forgotten what I did to make her that mad but Arvela saved me--that much I do remember. When I told my mom on Eva Lou, mom either didn't believe me or just figured so what...she had three children under four years of age so unless she wanted to be maid hunting, as long as Eva Lou didn't put me in the washer, no harm was done. Thank God when Eva Lou quit to go to Nursing School. Maybe she was just a tad under challenged with us. Or just flat mean. Either way, gone was good.
Arvela could fry chicken you will only ever taste again in heaven and taught me to make potato salad that I still make to this day. It's just never as good as her's. I remember loving to watch her iron...spritz with water...hit it with the iron....sizzle....stroke......ahhhh...smooth fresh clean cotton. This was w-a-y before spray starch so her starch came out of the box and went in to the final rinse. Lawsie...no clothes ever smelled so good.
You never forget the people who raise you, no matter who they are or what color their skin is. I can still hear Arvela's laugh to this day and boy, do I miss her chicken.
No comments:
Post a Comment