अल यू नीद इस Love

All you need is love. Alot of people will say thats nonsense, that in the real world you need money and stuff to survive. I have proof that indeed, all you need is love. I had a terrible childhood, and yet the best and most precious memories I will always cherish in my heart are the few brief times I stayed on my Grandpa and Grandmas farm in Prentice, Northern Wiscosin. They were my step grandparents, parents to my step dad. The Ericksons, and they were Swedish. If you could know how they lived, you would say that no one comes any poorer than that. And you would be right. They had "nothing". There was no indoor plumbing, no bathroom, and no refrigerator. Why did I want to stay there? Because they were the richest people I knew in the commodity of love and acceptance. I was not their step child, like everyone else introduced me as. I was their child, through and through, no different from any other. In fact Grandma favored me over all the other kids, because I was a girl. Her only girl. It was the first time and only time I felt special just because I was female. I was 6, but I still remember her running to me and throwing her waiting loving arms around me and holding me so tight when we first met. Yes I was overwelmed, but I sure did love it, and her, instantly.
Life on the farm was filled with adventure and activity laden days. Never was I bored. There was no TV, no radio. If I couldnt find something to do, Grandma would involve me in her chores, making it age appropriate for me, or do something with me that I chose. She made copious amounts of bread and I would always had my little tins that I would fill. I made all sorts of fancy shapes. She showed me I was important and that I could accomplish something. During night time milking, I would hang out in the barn with the many cats and dogs. It was warm and cozy in there on cold Wisconsin days. It was enough for me to just sit and watch the agrarian life taking place in front of me. I also would go everyday with my handsome tall uncle named Freddie, to get the cows. It was my favorite thing to do of all. We had to find them, then rustle them up, get them moving in the direction of the barn. There was a river we had to cross holding on to a pulley rope and glide across, with me on my uncles shoulders. He would also take me for bike rides on the handlebars of an old bike. He was studying to be a teacher and he always had fun art projects for me to do. I made my first and only encaustic with him using old crayons. There was never any inpropriety, no molestation. I was respected there as an equal human being with rights and feelings. Grandma Esther was very spiritual and took me to church, enrolled me in Sunday school. I still remember the wonderful smell of thousands of broken crayons in a big box that we used during Sunday school to color our bible lessons. My only same age playmate was a Grandchild of Grandmas. He lived just a few farms over and his name was Danny. We were best friends and we thought up endless things to do. We would make "castles in snow, large castles that had rooms, height, stairs, tunnels. There was plenty of snow for that. There was a playhouse at Dannys, where we would play house. Gender was not an issue. Nothing was considered girly, sissy, or tomboyish. It was just us playing out our childish fantasies and It was wonderful.
I will share now a very painful aspect of my childhood. I was a bedwetter. It was a constant source of agony and humiliation for me, because most every adult in my life treated it with disgust. I feel this is important to the story because Grandma Esther treated me as if there was nothing at all wrong with me. I even slept with her when I was there. She had no qualms about that. She just dutifully changed the linens every morning, never a complaint or snide remark, much less a spanking like I was used to. That was purely magical to me. I viewed her as my angel on earth, the one and only person who truly loved me and who was healthy for me to be around. I know that if I had been allowed to grow up there, life for me would have been so different. My own Mother made fun of Esther and detested going anywhere near that hovel. I really hated her for that. Everytime I had to go back home, my heart just broke and I have never felt a pain so bad as that. No, there was nothing there,..... except love.