Remembering Ma Balkum
 

We called them “Paw” and “Maw”. He was my grandfather, Levi David Balkum. He was born in Florence, Alabama, February 12, 1865. His obituary states, ”He came to Texas while only a boy.”

He was married to Tennessee Bell Cothran and they had 5 children: four boys and a girl. The girl became by mother, Fannie May Balkum Proctor. My grandmother died at the birth of my Uncle Hubert in 1901.

Again quoting from the obituary, “Brother Balkum soon married his second wife, Miss Sally Riggs.” I think she must have been a very brave and courageous woman to take on such a family; one small boy plus four other children ranging in age from 7 to 13. The situation was further complicated (I should think) by the presence of Paw’s “ol maid” sister, whom my mother called “Aunt May.” I wonder what sort of relationship she and Sally had. Who was really in charge of the household; what sort of division of labor was there?

My grandfather died in 1930. After that Maw went from home to home living with her step-children, spending weeks or months with each one until she finally came to live with us permanently. My father enclosed part of the back porch to make a small bedroom for her at our country home in San Saba County, Texas.

Ma had arthritis and I do not remember ever seeing her walk sprightly; she carried a cane and walked laboriously. Her hands were somewhat crippled also, but she could sew, and piece quilts she did! One for me and for each of my 3 sisters; perhaps one also for many of my cousins.

In my memory, she had silver-white hair, parted in the middle and done up in a bun atop her head. She always wore ankle-length dresses under which she wore a petticoat with frills, tucks and laces, and also a plain undergarment she called a shimmy.

I do not think she ever did anything to help in the kitchen or elsewhere; nevertheless she always wore an apron’ gingham checked, navy blue or black. These aprons she made “on her hands”. Mother had a treadle sewing machine, but Ma never used it.

When Marie and I treadled as fast as we could, it bothered Ma. “If you had sown on your hands as long as I have, you wouldn’t run that machine so fast!” she declared.

Ma received a small monthly check, referred to as a “old age pension.” I remember that she used to give my daddy money as he started to town and say, “Get me some prunes and spend the rest for whatever you want.”

When she wasn’t piecing quilts, Ma was usually reading her Bible, or whatever she could get her hands on. When I was in high school she would always read my history books, and I often checked out library books for her. I know she read Ben Herr more than once.

My most vivid memory of Ma is of her sitting in her rocking chair near the fireplace with a shawl around her shoulders and a lap robe over her knees reading her Bible and singing from a little hymnbook containing words only, no music. I can still “hear” her singing “When I Can Read My Title Clear” and “What Wondrous Love Is This, O My Soul”. These songs spoke of God’s great love for us and His provision for us to someday have a clear title to our home in heave. Our earthly title to the house in which we live may have a lien against it, but our home in heaven is debt-free because Jesus made it so. Ma never owned a home in this world, but she loved to sing of her heavenly home.

“My heavenly home is bright and fair.
No pain or death can enter there.
Its glittering towers the sun out-shine.
That heavenly mansion will be mine.”

Ma died of a stroke at age 83 and is buried beside my grandfather in the Miles Cemetery in runnels County, Texas. There are surely stars in her crown, for she lived her life in honor of her Lord and in unselfish service to her husband and his children. What wondrous love was that!
 

Written by Ruby Mae Proctor Christian
October 30, 2000
Read at the Family Reunion on June 26, 2004