Dear Jimmy,
Well, since your Uncle Orley and the vet are out in the back pasture helpin' a contrary calf come into the world, and since my suggestions on the matter seem not to be highly prized, I thought I'd write a few lines while I had the chance. I don't rightly know what we're goin' to do with all these cows. Ever since Orley started gettin' soft and namin' the calves like pets he can't seem to take them to the sale.
Time was when he wouldn't think twice about backin' the truck up to the ramp and hollerin' to the cows, “Come on, kids, let's go to McDonald's!” Then we had a calf born with two short legs on his left side—tailor made for walkin' along the side of these hills, if you ask me. Only trouble was, when he got ready to come home, he had to back up all the way ‘cause if he turned around he'd fall over.
Anyway, your Uncle felt sorry for him and took to callin' him “Leaner” ‘cause when he stood in the barnyard he listed about 30 degrees to the left. After that, he started naming all the calves. I told him, “Orley, it is not a good idea to name any animal you're plannin' to eat,” but he sometimes has trouble listenin' to opinions conflictin' with his own. As a consequence, we're raising a herd of pet cows that we can hardly afford to feed anymore.
Well, anyhow, that's not what I wanted to write you about. We just finished a revival down at Bluebell Baptist and I wish you coulda been here to get revived like the rest of us. Dr. Blaze, a pastor from some big First Baptist from somewhere or other, was the preacher and he got us so stirred up that I predict things aren't gonna be the same around Bluebell Baptist. Dr. Blaze said if we weren't using the gifts the Lord gave us it was like slappin' the Lord right in the face.
Take the ladies circle I've been a part of for more years than it would do my blood pressure good to remember. For years we've been prayin' for missions and givin' to missions and learnin' about missions. But the only thing we ever did that was called missions was make afghans for the Baptist Home and sock monkeys for the Children's Home. But since the revival our ladies are thinkin' that maybe there's more to missions than sock monkeys. Praise be to the Lord! If I have to look at another sock monkey I think I'll start swingin' from trees. I can't stand it anymore. I want to do something that will make a difference to somebody.
Now, some really interestin' things happened during the revival. I heard Daisy Allred say she'd never heard such things as what that preacher said. Truth is, Brother Bobby's been saying those same things right along, but I think we got so used to hearing him that we quit listenin'. Now that's a real shame, but I guess it helps to have a different voice in the pulpit from time to time.
I think Brother Bobby mighta felt a little bad when church people kept goin' on and on about what good sermons they were hearin', but the way I see it every preacher is bound to have four or five stem-winders he can pull out for revival. Seems to me the harder job is to preach Sunday after Sunday in the same church to people who mostly just want to be left alone.
One other thing Dr. Blazer did was take your Uncle Orley aside one night and ask him if he thought we were treating Brother Bobby fair with the parsonage. Dr. Blazer said he'd seen a lot of preachers come to retirement and after their last sermon the deacons thanked him and his wife for their years of service and asked them to turn in the keys to the parsonage as soon as they can get moved out. He said that since prices for houses go up every year a preacher ought to be able to buy a house as an investment. Orley said he'd think on it.
Well, while we were still thinkin' we ran into Belle Dozer at Wal-Mart sayin' “Howdy” to people as they came in just as big as you please. You remember her, don't you? She was the preacher's wife over in Hoopin Holler before he died. Anyway, after Brother Dozer died, the church let her stay in the parsonage as long as they could, but after a time they needed to call a new preacher and Belle had to move out.
She said she was havin' a real hard time makin' ends meet ‘cause Hoopin Holler Baptist never put much aside with the Annuity Board—now it's called something else, I think. She said that havin' to pick up and move in the middle of her grief was about more than she could bear. Orley and I just looked at each other. That was something we'd never even thought of. So, anyway, we're thinkin' now that maybe a parsonage might not be the fairest thing for a preacher.
Well, I gotta go. Orley's just come in a-grinnin'. He says we've got a new bull calf. He's gonna call him Dozer. Ain't that cute.
Come see us when you can and keep on keepin' on for the Lord.
Love, Aunt Ida