From a seat in the branches, one could see Grandpa Louis (Alois) Rektorik in his garden irrigating and weeding. Grandpa was there in his straw hat with his hoe working in front of a row of yellow, crook neck squash. What an intrigue Grandpa’s irrigation system was! With just a few more mulberries shoved greedily into the mouth and a jump down to the ground, it would be time to see what one could do in the garden. As the feet hit the ground, purple juice spurted up from flattened overripe berries between the tanned, bare toes of two small feet. The sticky sweet purple juice also circled the mouth of the child and the palms of her hands...not a harsh price for such a treat. Years ago these trees had been planted so that wine could be made from the berries. However, as children, we knew the trees had been planted just for us!

 A long trench had swiftly been troweled with the hoe by Grandpa and water flowed from one end of the row to the far distant one. With one quick slice of the hoe, Grandpa would channel the water to a particular plant or stop the flow to it. A small child could find sticks to serve as boats and send them floating from the rapids near the hose down stream through eddies of white foam and, on this row, under the sunny yellow blooms and large, prickly, green leaves of the squash plants. Occasionally, a bright red ladybird beetle could also be seen floating down the waterway frantically working its legs trying to find refuge from the current. What fun it was to watch the ladybird beetle scramble up on one’s boat! There beyond this row of squash was one of eggplants. Taller than this child were those plants when this child contemplated just what those large and shiny purple fruit had to do with eggs! They did not look anything like the warm brown eggs, which the child helped Grandma Jennie (Johanna) Mrazek Rektorik gather from the nests where the brownish-red hens laid.

And beyond this row of eggplant was the large concrete water tank for the horse pens. The farm horses had been gone for many years. Large and noisy green tractors now pulled the implements as the horses and mules had once done. But there was still dark green water in the tank; and, when one dropped a little oatmeal (from the coffee jar kept by the tank) into the water, large gold and white fish came lumbering up to the surface to open wide mouths and make popping sounds as they sucked in the floating meal.

Grandpa was over by the garden peas now. This meant it was time to be near him again. As one came up to Grandpa, he would reach down and pick a plump pea pod and break it open dropping the firm and round green peas into the grubby hand of the waiting child. How tasty those peas were when eaten fresh from the pod. Not too many meals were ever made of peas because the grandchildren ate so many while the pods were still in the garden. Grandpa always carried a pocketknife and sometimes he would peel and slice kohlrabi and then share them with any child who just happened to be there with him.

Next, the deep green, red-veined leaves of kale plants would be cut close to the grown. By the armful the child and her Grandpa would carry the kale over to the chicken pen and toss it in. While the child was amused by the plump red hens scurried over to the kale with their fluffy abdominal feathers looking like fuzzy “bloomers,” it was the behavior of the obstreperous rooster, which seemed the silliest. There the hens would be, already pecking holes in the leaves, when the rooster would finally notice that there was something new to eat. Only then would that old red rooster loudly call out (as if he had created the meal) and scratch the leaves and ground with his long-toed feet as if this were his treat to the ladies!

The mid-morning South Texas sun was rising high in the sky. Grandpa was ready to sit in the shade in his metal armchair until lunch. The child, on the other hand, had much to do. The big fig tree next to the cypress water tank was in fruit and yesterday the large, purple fruit were almost ripe. And then; there were the new goslings to see, if one could get past the ever-protective goose, and it was almost time for the eyes of the kittens to open, and ever so much more to see and do! Why would a child ever want to go to school when there was a whole wonderful world right there on the farm to explore and learn!

Kdo chce s vlky býti, musí vlky výti!

If you run with the wolves, then you must howl with the wolves!

Remember who your people are, keep and tell their stories to keep the fires of the culture alive!

Susan Rektorík Henley

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