Florence (Flo to family and friends) felt her husband climb out of bed, it was still dark. She had gotten so use to the sound of the whistle that it rarely woke her but she always felt her husband’s warm body leave and her two youngest  instinctively taking his place and cuddling up to her. Putting her arm around her youngest, Adam, her mind started going over what she would buy at the Company Store, it was the first Wednesday of the month, payday.

The second whistle sounded fifteen minutes after the first. Flo gently moved out from under the quilt and slipped on her house dress and slippers. Walking the 3 feet to the curtain that separated the sleeping area, she pushed it aside and entered her kitchen. Raising her arm she pulled the chain of the single bulb to light the room.  Putting two more logs into her black belly stove she saw that there was just enough water left in the pail to make coffee and grits for breakfast.  Pleased that she would not have to stand in line with the other women at the pump, she placed the pan filled with water on the stove.   Walking over to the shelves that her husband had put up for her, she opened the bread box and removed the five biscuits left over from dinner. On the very top shelf, hidden behind the flour tin, she reached up and took down a small jar of honey.

Within minutes the door opened and her three oldest came in. Her heart broke as she looked at her precious boys, so dirty and tired. Ages 14, 13 and 12, they were too young to work the 12 hour shifts in coal mines.

It was the strength of the women during the 1940′s that held families together, especially in the mining communities and Flo was a very strong woman. She never complained or questioned why things were the way they were, she just accepted the fact that these were the cards she was dealt and made the best of what she had.

The tired young boys, faces and hands blackened by the coal dust, sat at the table saying little as their mother readied their breakfast. It wasn’t until the two youngest woke and joined them that the room seem to come alive with conversation. Adam (six years old) was always excited to see his older brothers and wanted to know every detail of the nights work. Was anyone hurt, how much coal did they dig and the most important question, did they bring him any new rocks? Adam collected rocks and had quite a collection in his play corner of the dugout. He was never disappointed. Each reached into their overalls and removed a small rock which immediately put a big smile on the little boys face.

Eleanor, aged 10, helped her mother scoop the grits onto the plates and brought them to the table. Flo poured the coffee and put out the milk jar. They ate silently, with the only sound coming from the corner where Adam was talking to his rocks introducing the new residents to the already large rock community.

Smiling, Flo then brought her surprise to the table, biscuits and honey. Everyone’s face lit up as they knew what that meant. It was the first Wednesday of the month, payday.

Flo always kept a small jar of honey hidden, in which she only brought out on payday. It was her way of letting her family know that no matter how bad things seem, tomorrow will be better.

The young boys tired but hopeful, climbed into the bed, that just an hour ago was occupied by the rest of the family. Flo and the children took the wooden crate and started walking to the Company Store.  

“Mama,” Adam asked, “Are we having meat pie tonight?”

“We’ll see baby,” Flo answered, “I know one thing for sure, whatever we do have, It’s going to be delicious.”

Adam smiled, he never doubted his mother….He knew she would always make due with what they had and the family would survive. Mama was a strong woman.

This story is for the millions of people who have and to those who continue to live life on life’s terms, we admire and congratuate you for your stregnth.  

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