I glorify the time period as being maybe the best time period to live in the U.S., thus far. Regrettably, every time we head to our local living history museum, the flies over a several hour time period nearly do me in...so I'm not sure I would have had the fiber it takes to live during Laura's days.
I found this such a heartwarming piece, "The Sunflower". I truly believe we are all homemakers, regardless of how many are in our home, or how much time we spend there. It is what you make of the time in your home with the people who are in your life which distinguishes your worth as a homemaker. I guess what I'm trying to say is that "home" isn't so much a place as a way of being a welcoming person to others...and I think it is a word that isn't as old-fashioned as we modern women sometimes think.
"The Sunflower" by Laura Ingalls Wilder
initially published in the Missouri Ruralist on August 1, 1923
Out in the meadow, I picked a wild sunflower and as I looked into its golden heart such a wave of homesickness came over me that I almost wept. I wanted mother, with her gentle voice and quiet firmness; I longed to hear father's jolly songs and to see his twinkling blue eyes; I was lonesome for the sister with whom I used to play in the meadow picking daisies and wild sunflowers.
Across the years, the old home and its love called to me and memories of sweet words of counsel came flooding back. I realized that all my life the teachings of those early days have influenced me and the example set by father and mother has been something I have tried to follow, with failures here and there, with rebellion at times, but always coming back to it as the compass needle to the star.
So much depends upon the homemakers. I sometimes wonder if they are so busy now, with other things, that they are forgetting the importance of this special work.
Because of their importance, we must not neglect our homes in the rapid changes of the present day. For when tests of character come in later years, strength to the good will not come from the modern improvements or amusements few may have enjoyed, but from the quiet moments and the "still small voices" of the old home.
Nothing ever can take the place of this early home influence and, as it does not depend upon externals, it may be the possession of the poor as well as the rich, a heritage from all the fathers and mothers to their children.
The real things of life that are the common possession of us all are of the greatest value; worth far more than motor cars or radio outfits; more than lands or money; and our whole store of these wonderful riches may be revealed to us by such a common, beautiful thing as a wild sunflower.