having compony!

Having Company used to be a highlight of Ozark living. When you live so far out in the sticks, your
sunlight had to be pumped to you, you knew you were
almost home.
The first sign of company had nothing to do with the mail, because you didn’t get any mail. You had to
go to the post office in town and ask for your name in general delivery to see if you had any mail. They usually
saw you coming and had it ready before you walked in.
you were not surprised when they told you who else
had mail waiting for them. If you saw them, you were
to let them know!
Knowing that company was coming had nothing to do with the phone. You might not have a phone. Most
of us did, and it was a crank phone mounted to the Wall. It was the old party line type, meaning that while
you were talking, everyone was eavesdropping and having a party at your news.
The first sign of company usually came from the last dust cloud far off in the distance, rising high. That was
your first short notice. If the dust cloud passed your lane, then they weren’t coming to your place.
Every eye would watch to see if the dust cloud started getting lower and lower as it neared your lane.
That was the sure-fire thing you had company coming and everyone would go into action with lots of
excitement and lots of shouting, “We got company coming!”

The kids would go running for the gate, so by the time your company got to the gate, there would be
a pile of kids swinging on it and waiting for them.
Everyone would be shouting and waving with great excitement. There were always a few to run to the
house to announce who it was. Your guest would drive slowly through the gate, to not run over anyone . The excited, running, yelling, going hog wild little kids were in abundance they were having a real good time at your appearance.
Once through the gate, the car would proceed slowly to the house. Meanwhile the gate got closed and
all those gate riders, would jump off and start chasing the car to the house. While running behind it and yelling their lungs out, “They’re here! They’re here!” and waving frantically. Meanwhile the kids in the car were hanging out the windows by then and yelling their greeting in
return, waving back just as excited as everyone else.
Running too close behind the car was very self correcting. One quick stop to dodge a small little fellow
who couldn’t keep his feet straight, was all the teaching you needed for running too close. But you didn’t want to get too far behind or you’d look like a walking dirt clod by the time you got to the house. Then you couldn’t visit at all; you had to go get washed up first.
Of course in the house there was a lot of activity as well. The mom, grandma, and older sister all had to
change aprons, wipe the baby’s face, and tell the little ones that were still inside, to go wash their face and
hands and change their shirt.

The Dad’s job at the first sign
of the little runners, who came to announce who it was, Included going to the hen house to start wringing the chicken’s neck, who happened to “volunteer” and then to run it to the house and add it to the meal. Grandpa was to get his fiddle, banjo,
guitar, or whatever he had, and start tuning it up.
Adding water to the gravy, making more tea, dragging out the extra chairs, setting more places, all of this was done in record time!
By the time the company got out of the car, everyone would be outside, hugging and shaking hands,
holding babies, and listening to the challenges of their journey to get there.

Of course all the kids would still
be yelling and telling their latest exploits. There was always the usual chore of putting the dogs in the barn
for acting like excited dogs. Sometimes even the animals would sense the excitement and come to the fence to see what was going on.
When things settled down a bit, they would all be welcomed inside to “sit a while” while supper was
“gettin’ ready.” This sent all the kids to the back porch where the water tub was sitting. while the
adult guests would wash up in the house. They even have a clean drying towel in the house. As for us kids, shirt sleeves and jeans worked just fine. If you had a shirt. After the meal, all the moms and girls would join in for a major kitchen
clean-up crew. It seemed like everyone was involved somehow. bringing in extra wood for both stoves, filling up the water bucket, feeding table scraps to the dogs,
taking the trash out to the burn barrel or putting the rest of the animals up for the night, all got done with eager hands and happy faces.

Of course, the taking of the chairs out to the front porch meant we
were almost ready for the evening fun. For the adults it
meant having the old-fashioned sing and play “hodown.” But for the younger kids, it meant all kinds of
games in the yard. Hide and go seek was always popular along with Red Rover. Tag was a good game to
start out with, but it usually wore out pretty fast. Running around with a belly full of fried chicken and
potatoes had a way of slowing things down.
Somewhere after the singing and games, came the story telling. Many family adventures, and fears, were passed on by word of mouth at that time. Scary stories always
separated the men from the mice. Once the story got scary enough, it was probably just a coincidence the
guys ended up in the house, with all the lights on. Of course the kids were left outside to fend for themselves
at whatever monster, river creature or barn loft boogie man was lurking around. Eventually things would wind down, beds were made, kids re-arranged, and couches that had beds
folded up inside of them would be brought out. The kids got washed up and sent to bed. The adults gathered
back on the porch or at the kitchen table to discuss all the things kids weren’t supposed to hear. If the news
was really bad, the adults
ended up outside out in the yard. There was always a round of chairs, and normally a porch swing hanging
from a tree, out there somewhere.

If adults were going to cry, they didn’t want to be seen by everyone. They always shared their griefs out in the yard, away from little ears who didn’t need to hear such things. Those “out in the yard” moments usually lasted well into the
night, sometimes long after the bobwhites and the whippoorwills went to bed.
Morning was always a slow but exciting time. Folks were up early and chores were done with many
hands helping. The girls and moms would cook up a breakfast that would make your nose pull you out of
bed. Your mouth would start watering long before your
eyes saw what was causing it. There isn’t an alarm clock made that can equal the smell of breakfast in the
kitchen!
The morning chores would go fast and getting cleaned up was in order. The very cold water in the
wash tub, waiting on the back porch, didn’t even slow us down when plates were being filled up on the table!
Days were filled with swimming, exploring, fort building and gossip. (Did I say that out loud?)

Toward lunch or dinner, somebody would be responsible for shooting the meat for the meal. We always knew where to go for whatever meat was requested. The girls in the
house would put in their requests for what was needed, and we boys took turns at filling the need. Sometimes
we all went to get it. Hunting was as natural as eating. Fresh game was always on the menu. Frog legs was not a normal dinner meat. frog
gigging was something the guys did just for the joy of doing it. Frog legs are a favorite, good times only,
adventure. It meant a special meal long after supper. We’d glg and gut the frogs while the girls got everything ready for the cook up. It was a tradition of good times,
more than just feeding everybody.
By and by the company had to leave. It didn’t matter how long they stayed, it always went by too fast.
no matter how hard the times were, we never seemed to notice it, when company came. Even when certain kids had knockdown drag outs, there were always tears shed in saying good-by. There was no running behind the car or swinging on the gate. The excited greetings had turned to saddened faces. But
memories had been made that would last a lifetime.
And many life-changing decisions were made, because company came.
One day God is going to have company. He will sound a trumpet and come with a shout. There will be
much shouting as his children pass through the gates.
I also think there will be a lot of running to greet loved ones and waving hello. I think heaven will ring with laughter and shouts of victory and praise. It’s not hard
to imagine the loved ones who have gone before us, standing along the road to greet us upon our arrival.
What a grand reunion that will be.

I know there will be a great feast prepared for his own. I wonder if Heaven will have fried chicken and iced tea? I don’t know. No one on the porch swing, sitting alone and bawling because company was leaving. No more quietly loading up the car, while sad and tear filled eyes watched and tried to help. no tears in heaven. What a day that will be!
I want to hear the voice of my dad and mother once again. I want to see Granny’s smile and hear her
laughter. I want to hear them say, “I’m so glad you made it. Tell us, what was your journey here like?” I
want to see them again, feel their embrace, and hear them laugh once again. I want to see that old familiar
twinkle in their eye once more and hear them say, “Won’t you come on in and sit a while; the supper is
almost ready!”
I want to sing our Saviour praises, and see little children play in the grass. I wonder what would be said
when we look across the yard and see that circle of chairs and the old porch swing under the tree are all
gone. “What happened to them?” we may ask. The answer will probably be, “Son, up here we don’t need
them anymore. No more painful realities to face. No more sad news to protect the children from. No more
weeping or sorrow of heart. We can hug each other and say, “Welcome Home… Forever!