Hi my name is Sandra Reid and I am part of a family of seven children, um, and my mom and dad have passed away.
During our young years we were very poor. We did not have very much but my mom always found a way to keep us busy or keep us entertained, and one of the ways that she kept us entertained was by telling stories, reading poems, and singing to us.
One of the stories that I would like to share with you is the story that is pretty scary and it sticks out into my mind, I guess, mostly, mainly because it was scary.
Even though my mom told us lot of scary stories she was always there to hold us in her arms and let us know that the story was not true and that it was we were OK.
Out of all of my sisters and brothers I was the laziest one of all, as far as working around the house.
All of my sisters learned to cook by the age of eight.
I learned after I got married so I was a pretty lazy child when it came down to cleaning up and cooking.
So one night my mother asked me to go inside and wash the dishes.
Naturally, I start crying, and one of my main ways of getting out of work was always saying something hurt me, either my stomach, or that I had a headache, or something was wrong with my leg.
Just anything to get out of doing my job.
So after she noticed that I was going to be just a little stubborn and not follow, do what she tell told me to do, she asked me to come around in the living room with her and the rest of the family.
So she began to tell this story.
Once upon a time there was this little girl and her family.
And the mother asked the little girl to please go in and wash the dishes so that she could go to bed early and not come up, wake up in the morning and see all those dishes on the table.
And her little girl just complained, “I don’t want to wash the dishes.
I don’t want to.
My leg hurts, my head hurts.
I don’t feel good.”
The little girl disappointed her mother so badly, but her mother said, “How in the world am I ever going to get her to wash these dishes?”
So she said, “Little girl, little girl, if you don’t go in there and wash those dishes like I asked, you something really, really bad is going to happen to you.”
So the little girl just said, “OK I’ll go in there and wash the dishes.”
And she was in there stomping and crying and mad and taking all her good time.
All of a sudden the butcher knife came out of the drawer and it began to roll around in the air.
And before you know it, the butcher knife came around and cut the little girl’s head off.
And when the little girl went to heaven she was crying down to her dad and saying “Daddy, Daddy!
Mama cut my head off with the butcher knife.”
Now that knife, when I went to sleep it really scared me.
But the wonderful thing about it my mom was always there close by to let me know that I was OK.
Now after that, my mother continued to tell us many, many scary stories and tell us many, many, many poems.