Showing posts with label Grandma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandma. Show all posts

Saturday, September 1, 2018

Some History on the Families of Eaton, Pilgrims, & Fall Festival.

The Fall is coming on us quickly, and while getting ready stacking wood and thinking of our next museum event, " Fall Festival History Weekend" followed by our November Pie Sale...I dug this up and thought you might enjoy reading it again!

Many of our original settlers in Eaton date back to the Mayflower and the settlers of Natick especially the Morse, Leland, Kent and Stowe families.  Eaton followed much of the tradition of Natick so I thought I would include some wonderful history on Thanksgiving and Governor Bradford who Grandma Clark was a direct relative of. 

  The first Thanksgiving was truly different from what we see portrayed today on TV and in the movies.  In actuality, the Pilgrims who had invited the Indians over to thank them for their help in cultivating corn, in fishing and in hunting, and for basically keeping them alive for the first year, were stunned when the Indians arrived for the feast in numbers far beyond what the Pilgrim’s could feed.  So, the Indians left and hunted for deer and fowl and returned with the food necessary for the feast to last three days…yes, three days.

     This occasion was unusually frivolous for the stern Pilgrims and comprised of continuous eating, the marching of Myles Standish’s little band of soldiers, bow and arrow competition etc…  The feast meanwhile was tended to by five of the eighteen women who survived the first terrible winter.  Imagine trying to fix a feast for 140-150 people over an open fire, and then stretch it to three days.

     The great Governor Bradford delivered this prayer on the first Thanksgiving and I thought I would include it for us:

     Oh give thanks unto the Lord; sing unto him; sing praises unto him, for the precious things of heaven for the dew, and for the deep that couches beneath, and for the precious fruits brought forth from the sun, and for the precious things put forth by the moon, and for the chief things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the everlasting hills, and for the precious things of the earth and its fullness.  Let everything that has breath praise the Lord, Praise ye the Lord.

     Of interest, I think, are a number of passages from “Of Plimouth Plantation” by Governor Bradford, which mention the colony’s success only by acts of what he referred to as “God’s divine providence”.

     Bradford mentions windfalls of corn from unexpected quarters, a mysterious voice that warned the colonials of a store-house fire, showers that came just in time to save the crops, even the turning back of a ship that would foreclose on the colony.  These quotes show the success of the colony having been squarely laid on the cornerstone of faith.

     This faith led Bradford to guide the colony through all of its terrible trials and gave him the moral capacity to do what was right for all without wish for personal gain.  From his first election in 1622 until 1639, he received nothing for dining the court during their monthly sessions.  One comment I received after the piece on the “Common Good” read “too bad things could not be like that today!”  To this I say, “Amen!”  The word “altruism” is too seldom used to describe our modern leaders.

     The key word in our pursuit of the history of the Pilgrim’s is DEMOCRACY.  Democracy, is the basis for the Pilgrim’s government, carried through both the church and the state, something we need to concentrate on today I think.

Fall Festival will be the first weekend in October and will close for the season at the end of the month.



The Morse House today and before!


Saturday, December 21, 2013

A Christmas message and card from the backstreet!




Once again on the week behore Christmas I find myself lost amid old memories, problems of the present... and the dificulties of living in this (at the very moment) place in history where in seconds news is flashed, reflashed, disected and rehashed within the blink of an eye.  

So.. I decided to try and go back to a much nicer time, a time when life was simple and the holidays were something to look forward to...times to remember in your heart with joy!  Here is a repost from last year...but some things to think about.   I question...are we living in better times???

I painted the above picture for a Christmas card in 1995 and wrote the poem to go with it.  The story came from discussions with the old members of our little community group who shared their remembrances of "Christmas Past".

They are all dead now... but like on old clock I have turned my mind back to that year and leave the poem to you as my Christmas blog and my hope for a quiet and warmer future built on love...not hate....on families....not presents and shopping...and on love for your neighbor!

Going to Grandma’s for Christmas


Going to grandma’s for Christmas,
A very special day.
Through the city, past the suburbs,
Out the country way;
Past the now frozen pond,
Where children skate and sled;
While moms and dads look on.

As we approach the old farm house’
With barns in red and white;
I feel a glow of warmth,
In just picturing the sight,
The front door swinging open;
As waves and cheers abound.
It seems a million years ago,
Last Christmas came around.

The tree in its shining hour;
Standing in the hall,
So it might stretch to its fullest height,
And run from floor to floor.
Grandma’s fresh baked cookies,
Cooling by the stove;
And gingerbread decorated,
With swirls, and dots, and love.


The goose stuffed and waiting;
Cranberries and popcorn strung;
The neighbors gathering at the door,
Singing carols just for fun.
After all the presents,
Are unwrapped and tucked away;
I slip upstairs to Grandma’s room,
To kneel with her and pray.

Then curled up in a feather bed,
So snug and fluffy warm;
I feel at ease with all the world;
And safe from any harm.

No matter how many years come and pass away,
Grandma and the country,
Will be the heart of my Christmas Day!

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Going to Grandmas for Christmas!



Once again on the week behore Christmas I find myself lost amid old memories, problems of the present... and the dificulties of living in this (at the very moment) place in history where in seconds news is flashed, reflashed, disected and rehashed within the blink of an eye.  

So.. I decided to try and go back to a much nicer time, a time when life was simple and the holidays were something to look forward to...times to remember in your heart with joy!  Here is a repost from last year...but some things to think about.   I question...are we living in better times???

I painted the above picture for a Christmas card in 1995 and wrote the poem to go with it.  The story came from discussions with the old members of our little community group who shared their remembrances of "Christmas Past".

They are all dead now... but like on old clock I have turned my mind back to that year and leave the poem to you as my Christmas blog and my hope for a quiet and warmer future built on love...not hate....on families....not presents and shopping...and on love for your neighbor!


Going to Grandma’s for Christmas


Going to grandma’s for Christmas,
A very special day.
Through the city, past the suburbs,
Out the country way;
Past the now frozen pond,
Where children skate and sled;
While moms and dads look on.

As we approach the old farm house’
With barns in red and white;
I feel a glow of warmth,
In just picturing the sight,
The front door swinging open;
As waves and cheers abound.
It seems a million years ago,
Last Christmas came around.

The tree in its shining hour;
Standing in the hall,
So it might stretch to its fullest height,
And run from floor to floor.
Grandma’s fresh baked cookies,
Cooling by the stove;
And gingerbread decorated,
With swirls, and dots, and love.


The goose stuffed and waiting;
Cranberries and popcorn strung;
The neighbors gathering at the door,
Singing carols just for fun.
After all the presents,
Are unwrapped and tucked away;
I slip upstairs to Grandma’s room,
To kneel with her and pray.

Then curled up in a feather bed,
So snug and fluffy warm;
I feel at ease with all the world;
And safe from any harm.

No matter how many years come and pass away,
Grandma and the country,
Will be the heart of my Christmas Day!