According to the..

According to the younger generation, my mama and daddy were apparently abusive to us when we were children. We were scared to get in trouble. They made us do household jobs, go to , and go to school.

Gave us a curfew and whooped our bottom when we did wrong, they even made us go get the switch that they used on us. They put food on the table and we were expected to eat it. They put clothes on our backs and we were expected to wear them. They expected to wear them. They suggested we get a job and work for the things that we wanted. They insisted that we do our best at school, at our job, and to take pride in our work. We grew up with morals, a good work ethic, and respect for the law & our elders. I thank God everyday for my Mama and Daddy!!!

Related Posts

The Snowy Clue That Revealed What Was Hidden Inside a Quiet Dutch Home

Snow was falling steadily over a peaceful Dutch neighborhood, blanketing every surface in a soft white layer. Within hours, cars, trees, and rooftops were coated in thick…

The Lunch Break Surprise That Reminds Us Why Produce Needs a Second Look

It happened during an ordinary lunch break—the kind where you toss a quick meal together without examining every ingredient. She sprinkled what she thought were quinoa grains…

Walking in Her Footsteps: The Quiet Legacy My Grandmother Left Behind

For most of my life, I believed my grandmother was simply frugal. She stayed home instead of going out to eat, wore the same shoes for years,…

Why That Tiny Hole on Your Nail Clipper Is More Useful Than You Think

If you’ve ever noticed the small round hole on the handle of your nail clipper and wondered why it’s there, you’re not alone. It may look like…

How a Simple Kitchen Staple Can Help Keep Your Car Dry and Fresh

f you’ve ever stepped into your car and been greeted by foggy windows or a musty, damp smell, you’re definitely not alone—especially if your vehicle has a…

How a Simple Closet Clean-Out Turned Into an Unexpected Lesson in Kindness

I spent a quiet afternoon cleaning out my daughter’s closet, sorting through tiny sweaters, soft pajamas, and dresses she had long since outgrown. Each piece carried memories…