"As expected the rain did not hinder the boys going to the field, but to my disbelief she never woke me, but let me keep pretending to sleep and listening to the pounding sound of water droplets against the roof. The way she took in a deep breath at my door, but refused to use it on words gave me the sense that she knew, but for once let her mind forget it.
I pondered if this was a trick. Stay at home with only mama, Aunt Beey and me to occupy the same confines of the wooden dwelling to aid in their labors of cooking the following day's meals. It was Saturday, meaning tomorrow was Sunday and no one cooked on church day. That day was reserved for silent prayers and reading one's Bible, aside from the obvious even of church service and Sunday school for us kids. Sunday meals were left to be made and prepared on Saturday.
Perhaps mama simply took pity on me for the trouble all the boys gave me when I went to the fields. I didn't seem to belong there either and they never let me forget it. Always jabbering on about a lady's place being in the house; cooking, cleaning and caring on with babies. Papa would yell once or twice to hush the voices and to work, but he even agreed to some extend with the boys' and only hollered as duty saw fit.
Maybe she was punishing me for all those times I spoke out of turn, or spoke at all. I always found my mouth speaking the words of my mind, and for a women, no less a girl, speaking such thoughts was unheard of and far from being lady-like behavior. Censoring myself never came easy, but looking back I'm glad it didn't. I got the sense that it never came effortlessly to mama either. Though through the progression of time she learned. When or if I would learn I didn't know. No matter mama's reasoning, I was free from the fields for the day. I was free from the boys' ridicule and banter. The feeling of relief flooded my body and eased my mind, slipping me back into a restful sleep."
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