June 2005                                                                The Megaphone                                                                  Page 7

Homemade

by Cindy (Benedict) Odom

I come from a family of homemade . . .
  

I mean it seemed as though everything was homemade . . . from our doll clothes, to our clothes. Mother even made homemade cakes and other desserts.
  

We had homemade breakfasts and suppers. We grew up with pillowcases we would either embroidery or paint flowers on and homemade doilies on the tables.
  

And homemade didn't stop with our Mother . . .
  

I was to be an angel in a school play one year, and Dad made my halo and wings out of wire hangers and aluminum foil. As an adult, Mother asked me to write a poem about them, and gave me a picture Dad had taken of me as I proudly posed in my halo and wings. So respectfully I wrote about my Halo and Wings of foil.
  

When I was in grade school at Edgewood , we had a kite-flying contest. So naturally I "fly" home and request the biggest and best kite. We could go to G. C. Murphy's and buy it, right? Dad just picked up the Elwood Call Leader, and together he and I made a kite. My kite was the only one there that you could either fly or read. He had carefully helped me make my kite from the front page of the paper. I did not win first place, but that day I cheerfully flew "The Elwood Call-Leader."
  

I remember during my early teen years skateboards were becoming very popular. Everyone had one. I had out grown my roller skates, you know the kind that took a key to tighten them on to your shoes? So one day, I asked my parents if they would buy me a skateboard. Dad asked me what was wrong with my roller skates. When I told him that I was too old for them, he just said the usual "We'll see."
  

Now you would think at this point I should have known what was going to happen . . .

One day he handed me this board that had been stained and you know? . . . the wheels on it had come from my roller skates. I just looked at it. I'm thinking that this skateboard isn't as neat as the ones my friends have. Theirs were painted in bright colors and didn't look at all like this. But having no choice, since my roller skates had kind of bit the dust, I accepted the skateboard Dad had made. And as it turned out, I had the best skateboard on the block. It out lived all the others and was still up and running long after I had graduated from using it.
  

Mother died in September of '99 and Dad in December of '01 and before they both died, they would talk about all the homemade things I had growing up. Mother talked about how sweet I looked as an angel in my "homemade" halo and wings. Dad laughed as he talked about how I would race up and down North A Street on my "homemade" skateboard, telling anyone who would listen how good I was on it.
  

So I look back on my days of "homemade" and value the memories. My parents could have purchased some of the things that were homemade, but you know? . . . it wouldn't have been the same. Taking time for homemade has shown me how much they loved me.
  

Written by --
Cindy (Benedict) Odom '69

to Page 8