Maeburl Tincher
You’ve heard the expression, “She worked her fingers to the bone.”
Well, my mother was the exact living embodiment of that phrase.
Her hands – marred and partially frozen over time – were a visual testimony of years of service to others.
She was the oldest of 11 siblings, whom she helped raise while her father was away. She would later care for nine children of her own, a hard-working husband, two younger brothers, her mother, and various borders from time-to-time.
She washed clothes on a scrub board – next to the creek behind the smoke house, under a big dogwood tree. This arrangement kept her warm and out of the wind. She would build a large fire under a cast iron kettle to heat her wash and rinse water in. Older siblings would assist as needed. I mostly watched, being too young to really help.
We never went hungry: mama cooked three meals a day. At one time, she was making so many biscuits, she used 50 pounds of flour a week!
She also canned and preserved fresh produce. She would buy bushels of peaches and berries. Every year, she would can 500-600, half-gallon jars, including fruits, tomatoes, corn, green beans and okra.
One spring, she and I went on vacation to visit her family in Cherokee County. The week we were gone was the time that poke greens were ready to be put up and the only time daddy had to can them was on Sunday. He was proud to have his poke greens ready for the winter, but they barely made it a month before they started exploding all over Mama’s canning closet.
Daddy never canned on Sunday again.
In her early 60s, Mama decided to get her license. She and a good friend were taking drivers’ education together. They both had to perform a road test on the same day.
It was a day to remember. The friend panicked and lost control of the vehicle. The poor teacher had to crawl under her to hit the brakes with his hands. Everyone was shook up, including the box lunches.
Mama got her license. The friend decided driving wasn’t for her.
Mama was well respected for supporting the neighborhood – and in many cases, a genuine role model. Women often sought her out to confide in her about their struggles.
I am grateful for the era I grew up in and the value that was placed on family at the time when the nation was coming of age. I am thankful for the privilege of being raised by a genuine Proverbs 31 woman.
Maeburl Tincher writes a monthly column for The Graham Star. She is a Graham County native.