Cotton Pickin' Ella

As we drove past farmers' fields' in southeast Michigan yesterday which were just beginning to show growth, me Mom remarked over a huge one, "You could get a lot of cotton on that field."

She turned to me and asked, "You ever pick cotton?"

"No ma'am."

"Oh, it was hard work," she responded. "We had to pick it all by hand. And they was these sharp things all over it."

"The cotton come in a ball like this," Mom held out her hand in an upside down fist, "and then it broke open" and she opened up her hand, "and they was these needles" and with her other hand she tapped on the top of each finger of her open hand "that was sharp as all get out." 

"Then you had to reach in and grab that ball of cotton and try not to get stuck. I pricked my fingers a lot doing that. You had to be real careful, but you learned to be quick. I got pretty good at it. But I wouldn't want to do it no more. It was hard work out in the hot sun."

So I learned from me Mom how to pick cotton. But I believe the best thing was just hearing her tell the story.