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Saturday, June 16, 2018

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY 2018: THE WISDOM OF THE CARPENTER



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Mom (Natalie) and Dad (Jewell) holding Marcia.  Copyright 1950 Marcia Norwood




A Short Story from the 
STORYTELLER GIFT BOOK

FLY AWAY

By
Marcia Norwood




     I love two carpenters.

     Both were bruised and beaten, yet they chose gifts of love.



Jesus, The Carpenter
http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images?_adv_prop=image&fr=mcafee&va=jesus+carpenter+scripture 

"Isn't this the carpenter?"  Mark 6:3.  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood
    

     I begged Dad for stories from his childhood.  My father, Jewell Edward Bush, was born March 18, 1922, the ninth of eleven children.    He rarely talked about his family.  When he was two years old his father died while working in the coal mines.  His mother was pregnant.  She remarried and had more children.  

     Dad’s stepfather made living very difficult for him.


      I asked Dad what games he played when he was a child.  He remembered many times his stepfather gave him a lighted match and told him to run up a hill and back down.  If the match went out Dad got a beating.  


      Dad left home when he was five years old and went to live with his Aunt Maude and Uncle John.  His first job was working a couple blocks from their home at Aunt Carrie’s restaurant.  

     Aunt Carrie wasn’t related, but everybody called her Aunt Carrie.  She had no children of her own.  Her restaurant was part of First Monday Sales, an auction house in Liberty, Missouri.   
Polaroid Photograph of Aunt Carrie.  Copyright 1958 Marcia Norwood



     Dad walked to work after school, and on Saturdays.  He sold hot dogs and soda pop and swept the floors when he was seven years old. He earned 50 cents a week.  


      He was forced to quit school when he was 12 years old because there just wasn’t enough money for him to continue.  He cut up onions and various other jobs at restaurants in Liberty.  

     No wonder he joined the Army before he was 18. His mother signed papers (he was under-age) and gave him permission to go to war.   Dad fought horrific,  hand-to-hand combat  battles as a teenager with the 128th Infantry in Australia, Panama, Philippines and New Guinea, during World War II
  
Dad (Jewell Bush)'s Army Medals and Emblems.  Copyright 2000 Marcia Norwood
 
     The 128th, as part of the 32d Division, was called to federal service on 15 October 1940. After training in Louisiana, the unit was moved by convoy to Port Adelaide, Australia

     The 128th, as part of the 32d, broke through the Japanese lines at Buna ("Bloody Buna") New Guinea; defeated Japanese General Adachi's divisions at Saidor and Aitape, New Guinea; defeated the Japanese Imperial First Marines in Leyte (Imperial First Marines only loss in 200 years); and pierced the Yamashita Line in Luzon. 

     The 128th Regiment and 32d Division were still in combat action when the cease fire order came on 15 Aug. 1945. 

     The 32d Infantry Division had been in combat 654 days - more than any U.S. Division in any war.

Dad (Jewell Bush)'s Army Medals and Emblems.  Copyright 2000 Marcia Norwood

       Dad learned the skill of carpentry after returning from World War II.  He made a living, and enjoyed his life as a carpenter.  To this day the smell of sawdust brings back beautiful memories of the times I “helped” Dad in his basement workshop.   
This is how I remember Dad coming home from work each day...through the side kitchen door.  We all - four siblings (Marcia, Gloria, Bret and Terry) met Dad every day at the door.  Here is my brother, Bret, greeting Daddy.  Copyright 1958 Marcia Norwood.
     Dad was infinitely patient with me as he taught me how to use every tool on his workbench...even the power tools.  My younger brothers, Bret and Terry, screamed, as I cut a 2 x 4 and accidentally  cut into Dad’s workbench with a jigsaw.  


      Dad simply unplugged the cord from the outlet, which also stopped the blade from severing the electrical cord:  “Try again, Marcia.  You’ll get the hang of it.”  

    Dad lost his childhood, yet he let me be a child when I needed it.      He was wise beyond his years in school, and loved beyond the example he was shown as a child.

   Christmas 1959, I was ten years old, and in the 4th grade.  I cried because I thought I was too old to get a doll for Christmas.  

     Dad promised  he would give me a doll every Christmas—until I had a baby of my own.   
Cousin Tandra, Sister Gloria (center) and Marcia (right).  Copyright 1957 Marcia Norwood

     He kept his promise.  

     Even after I was married, Dad gave me a doll every Christmas from 1959 until 1972, when I gave birth to my first child.   

     Mom said it was the only present Dad ever shopped for himself.   

    I love two carpenters.

    Both were bruised and beaten, yet they chose gifts of love.

  
Wisdom of the Carpenter
A Short Story from
FLY AWAY
A STORYTELLER Gift Booklet
Gifts of Inspiration That Encourage and Inspire



My First Christmas, 1949.  I received a new rocking chair and a baby doll!  Cousin Tandra (left) and Baby Marcia (fingers in mouth). Copyright 1949 Marcia Norwood
Sister Gloria sits in Marcia's rocking chair.  Marcia hold stuffed toys.  Copyright 1951 Marcia Norwood

Mom (Natalie) and Dad (Jewell) holding Marcia.  Copyright 1950 Marcia Norwood




Dad (Jewell) holds Gloria.  Mom (Natalie) holds Marcia.  Copyright 1951 Marcia Norwood


Marcia and Baby Doll,  Kay-Y.  Copyright 1951 Marcia Norwood



     I still have Poor Pitiful Pearl,  one of the dolls Dad gave to me in the late 50's.   She was based on a cartoon character created by William Steig, American cartoonist, sculptor, illustrator and children's author, who is best known as the creator of Shrek.    

Watch for my blog about:  Poor Pitiful Pearl and Little Miss No Name - two dolls I treasure.  

Most of my friends and family make fun of them, and wonder how anyone would love them!
Poor Pitiful Pearl Doll
What dolls did you want for Christmas when you were a child?

What dolls do your children want this Christmas?


Little Miss No Name


Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!











Mary Marcia
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking









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