A Party at the Creek

17-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today: 

Thursday, August 1, 1912:

 August will fly fast enough,

And at its eve will again will be

The dear old school days.

So farewell to July.

Half of the Summer has vanished,

And half of it yet to come.

Yet the days glide on as ever,

And August another month begun.

We had our S.S. class up along the creek today. All were there and had a splendid time. Such a time as we had a losing of things, but they were all recovered. I lost the heel off of my shoe and didn’t miss it for awhile afterwards. I feel like a stuffed toad this evening.

Recent photo of the stream that flows through the farm Grandma grew up on. The old Muffly barn is in the background.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

It sounds Grandma and her sister Ruth were the hostesses for the Sunday School party. What fun! . . . good friends. . . good food. . . wading in the creek  . . .  the perfect summer day (in spite of a broken shoe heel).

Monthly Poem

Grandma began every month in the diary with a poem. Each month I ponder whether she wrote the poem or whether she copied it from some source.

Since she’s mentioned that school will be starting in about a month in several recent posts, this month I’m voting that she wrote the poem herself.

9 thoughts on “A Party at the Creek

  1. My grandma would often write things that I also wonder about whether she wrote them or copied them. She would often copy things from newspapers or magazines, but every once in awhile there are gems that I am sure she wrote herself.

  2. Since she felt like a stuffed toad, she must have ate well. It is good to know she is having some fun in the final days of her summer break.

  3. I vote that she wrote it. When I was going to school we got out at the end of June and went back after labor day. My grandkids here in Georgia get out at the end of May and go back Aug 6. Their vacation is gone.

  4. It sounds like a very personal poem and I would expect that it is her own work. A hundred years ago, poetry was much more flowery in publications… but your Grandmother’s poem sounds down to earth… as solid as the thought of school approaching. It’s quite good.

  5. Ahh, in addition to having a great SS picnic, my poetry girl was at it again. I do hope she continued to writer in her later years.

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