Mary Ann
My mother had a chicken lamp that was her pride and joy. She saved a $1.00 a week for 35 weeks to buy her coveted lamp. Remember those days when you put items on layaway? That was a healthy price for the 50s. However, the lamp did not feel very mid-century. It had a brown shade with a yellow ruffle, and it was a chicken. It didn’t matter, she loved her lamp!
One day my mother was off to the store which was down the street from our house, and my little brother, Timmy, and I, were left home alone and were to take care of one another. This was a time when younger children were given much more freedom. We were about 6 and 8 years old at the time. At any rate, we were expected to behave and keep out of trouble.
Well, as soon as mother left to do her shopping, we, of course, began fighting and chasing one another around the house. I believe that Timmy was chasing me, and he plowed into the chicken lamp knocking it over and breaking the head off. (He may tell this differently.) OMG, the world was ending. We were doomed. Mother was going to kill us for a multitude of reasons; namely, her chicken lamp was broken, her precious chicken lamp.
So being the older, wiser child, I decided that we would not confess our sins. So, we put the head back on the chicken and became the most well-behaved children occupying ourselves with Timmy playing with his farm set and me reading. If mother discovered the damaged chicken lamp, we would deny everything. This was the first time that brother and sister conspired to save their necks. We were taking this to our graves.
It is amazing that neither of us said anything. I would have been in trouble for not supervising Timmy better, and he would have been in trouble for breaking the beloved lamp. So, time passed, and the head held. Mother cleaned the lamp, and the head did not fall off. The head remained steady even during a move to our new house. It is not fun waiting for a shoe to drop. At any moment, our sins could be revealed.
Time passed; years passed. The chicken lamp remained on a revered spot in the living room on a round, maple table. The chicken head held firm to the point that we began to forget about it until one Sunday afternoon. My father’s brother and family were visiting. Their son, our cousin Gregory, walked over to the lamp, and he touched his finger to the tip of the chicken’s beak. Plop, the head fell to the tabletop. Timmy and I looked at one another across the room, and our eyes locked. Gregory was going to be the one in trouble. He would take the fall, and neither one of us spoke up. That moment sealed the bond between us. This was going to the grave with us. Gregory was just a little guy, so he wasn’t going to get in trouble for “breaking “the lamp. He just touched it. Everyone was sorry, and my mother ended up glueing the chicken head back on the chicken body. All was well. How did we ever get away with this?
Now, for the backstory. First, Greg if you are reading this, we are sorry we let you take the blame. Timmy as a child was a naughty little boy, and we have many Timmy stories in our family that I will share in the future. Timmy became a teacher and an outstanding school guidance counselor when he grew up. Never give up on a child. Redemption is always there.
Apparently, not for me. The Berenstain Bears have a story on honesty (The Berenstain Bears and The Truth) that is centered around the children breaking a lamp. The book was written 30 years after our crime. There must be a lot of children breaking lamps. Those little bears confessed, but they didn’t have a Cousin Gregory to lay the blame. We didn’t confess to our mother until we were in our 50s, and she was in her 70s. We figured it was safe to fess up! She wasn’t mad and had no idea that had happened. We felt lighter and didn’t have to take the sin to our graves!
Silver Sage Sisters 