A Grandmother’s Legacy

O God, you have taught me from my earliest childhood, and I constantly tell others about the wonderful things you do. – Psalm 71:17 (NLT)

My Grandma Fletcher loved people, antiques and business. With seven children, she was not a pampering kind of mother. She taught the kids how to work—and work hard. Grandma ran an efficient household and carved out time for her hobby, which she turned into a business. She loved buying antiques and refinishing them. She purchased an old train depot, opened a store and filled it with all kinds of interesting relics. Her vivacious personality brought people into the shop not only to purchase antiques, but also because they found a great friend in Grandma. She brightened up everyone’s lives and made them laugh.

Grandma Fletcher adored my grandpa, who died when I was only four years old. They both grew up in farming communities. Grandpa eventually became a trainmaster for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. I have been told that Grandpa Fletcher spent hours on his knees praying for his children, grandchildren and generations to come.

After Grandpa died, Grandma devoted herself to her children and her antique shop. She kept Grandpa’s photo on her bedside table and spoke fondly of him all the time. While other grandmothers were knitting or crocheting, mine was refinishing furniture or polishing a silver set that she had just purchased at an auction. Her clothing was stained with furniture polish, and she tied her long auburn hair up in a bun to keep it from interfering with her current project. Grandma was feisty, fun and totally herself.

My visits to Grandma’s house were some of my strongest and most positive childhood memories. She didn’t let us grandkids sit around like “sick cats,” as she put it. She couldn’t stand it when someone was idle or bored. There was so much to do and so much of life to experience. She quickly gave us jobs to do and clarified wages up front. Older grandsons groaned as they rearranged huge pieces of antique furniture, shifted large picture frames or hauled boxes of antiques back and forth from the basement. Grandma delighted in mobilizing us all to work.

Granddaughters, too, had to get their hands dirty by moving things, polishing or cooking. There was no place for “sissies” in the Fletcher family. Once I spent the entire day cleaning the kitchen. I could hardly move because it was small and cluttered. Pots and pans were everywhere. Grandma was busy, and antiques took priority over a clean kitchen. I scrubbed until my hands were raw, but somehow it felt good to see the kitchen transformed, even if I knew it would be messy again the next day.

Sometimes Grandma would send us to the local bakery at the end of the day to buy all the half-priced breads and pastries as a treat. We would carry them home in big plastic bags and freeze them. That was how she taught us to look for deals and save money. We learned to “buy up opportunities” while they were hot. For another treat, Grandma would buy huge wooden cases of soda pop. She often commented how Coca-Cola used to cost only five cents when she was raising her family!

The wages she paid us for our help were not high, but we were learning important life lessons. If we didn’t work hard, we got kicked in the pants! At the end of the day, there would be some reward, like a walk to the local ice cream shop for a sundae or a bottle of soda.

I remember Grandma would look me straight in the eye and ask me to account for what I had done that day. Had I been a strong worker, worthy of a good wage, or had I been slothful? I would be nervous and fidget in my seat. Then Grandma would burst out in laughter and commend me for the clean kitchen or diligence in moving antiques. But tomorrow was a new day and, Grandma would say, “You are only as good as your last picture. Get moving!”

There were not many places to sleep in Grandma’s crowded house. Her downstairs was a show room, packed full of antiques. Sometimes we didn’t have a place to sit. Grandma said that was good because we weren’t supposed to be sitting anyway. Even the bathroom door would not close completely because there was an antique in the way!

Upstairs, the rooms were filled with more antiques and a few beds. Frequently, the grandkids all slept in the same room. It was difficult to sleep, but fun. Someone would crack a joke and the whole room would shake with laughter. Once we started laughing, it was hard to stop. In the mornings, no one could take showers because Grandma had plants in the bathtub. The only place to bathe was in her bathroom downstairs. Even then, it was only a trickle of water because the plumbing was so old. No one complained, not wanting to be labeled a sissy.

Another thing we could not complain about was Grandma’s food. She would concoct huge pots of who-knows-what. Grandma would toss all kinds of leftovers into one big stew and call it “supreme.” Sometimes I would gag and wonder what I was eating. It was my first lesson on how to be thankful and how to not be a picky eater, and it would prove helpful later in my life.

Grandma always saved money and cut costs so that she could purchase more antiques. She could sell anything, even something that looked like junk to me. She had a keen sense for business, more than anyone I had ever known. Even though she was so frugal, she was incredibly generous. It brought her great delight to save money and then give it to a great cause. Years later, she gave money so that my parents could visit mainland China. She helped support their missionary work. Grandma said that, of all the cultures she admired, the Chinese were at the top of the list because they were industrious enough to build the Great Wall.

The whole Fletcher family loved God and country. Grandma was our matriarch—an eternal optimist. Her home was full of laughter, legendary practical jokes and the richness of deep relationships. My mother was drawn to those qualities when she joined the family. She loved the Fletchers, and they embraced her as one of their own