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It's a Miracle

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Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 14
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1982
Type Text
Format image/jpeg
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6wh2n45
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-03-01
Date Modified 2005-03-01
ID 325496
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6wh2n45

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Title It's a Miracle
Description IT'S A MIRACLE Lois Sears Brown 95 West 2nd South Manti, UT 84642 Non-Professional Division Second Place Historical Essay Tears of frustration gathered in my eyes and an occasional one streaked through the grime gathering on my face as I scraped the soot from the small door at the botton of the huge black stove in our kitchen. Worse was yet to come! As I grasped the chicken wing and started to sweep the fine soot and ash, I sniffled and coughed and dreaded the cleanup of me and the kitchen that must take place after this, the worst of all possible chores in our home. I complained and sulked at having to do this task, but I knew Mother could not accomplish all the cleaning that must be done each Saturday. Mother was busily cleaning the small wooden box so it could accomodate the chunk of ice that must go into it. She always did this as it was imperative that the drain be thoroughly clean and empty so the melting ice would not form puddles on the floor. And while the "ice box " was a neat rectangle, ice seldom was. So, as ice was lowered into the box, the ice-pick chipped a corner here and a curve there. These bits and pieces, which should have dropped quietly into the box, always flew and quickly melted into dirty puddles on the floor. The ice, hauled from the river, contained bits of leaves and debris that made cleaning the floor and ice box a slimy job. There must be a better way! Surely all the girls and women in the world should not suffer this misery, this frustration, the dirt and work that my mother and I experienced each Saturday. Sunday, I brooded this problem, and Monday as I dipped heavy clothes from the boiling water on the old black stove my anger mounted. The steam turned my face flaming red. Every shred of curl disappeared from my hair. Hot soapy water splashed everywhere, even into my eyes and mouth as I pulled from the water one white shirt after another, and linen table cloths and napkins and dresses and pillow cases. I shuddered to think of the hours of ironing the stiffly starched articles -37-
Format image/jpeg
Identifier 051_It's a Miracle.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 14
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325408
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6wh2n45/325408