Peddlers & Preachers

I remember how peddlers used to come by our house with huge loads of pots and pans, medicines, or whatever they could carry. They would put down a big cloth with all their wares on it, take it up the the four corners, and fling it upon their back. They would go from house to house selling things. I remember thinking, "Oh, how nice that would be! I might just like to be a peddler when I grow up."

Where ever they were a mealtime or night is where they were shown hospitality. They must have first and best choice at our house. You see, my pappa held the Biblical belief that one "might be attending angels unaware," even if they were bums. My mamma changed the beds afterwards, using a stick to carry the sheets to a pot of scalding water and soap in case of germs or lice. But no one was turned away from our house for food or lodging.

Once we had thirty people for the night and Rev. Mosley came riding up on his horse for the weekend as he did many times - just one more to feed, sleep, and an extra horse to take care of. He liked our church and he would often ride fifteen miles or more to worship with us, take communion, and wash feet. He loved to sing. I have seen him get happy at a foot washing and start congregational singing barefooted.

He was a very good, spiritual old man. He always sat and told us lots of stories. We called him Josh, and he talked sort of through his nose. Sometimes he would bring part of his family with him to visit. My pappa always said, "Come on in. We can make room somehow."