Here In The South We Say “Skeered”

Written by Joy Mathis Chadwick

Help yourself to a big cup of coffee, grab yourself a piece of hot banana bread that just came out of my oven, and let’s go sit on the back porch for a little while. It’s a cool morning here in the Ozarks and although a sweater feels pretty good right now, I’ll be shedding it soon. It’s that wonderful time of year that I love dearly – more than any other – when it’s cool in the mornings, warming up as the sun gets higher in the sky, and then cool again as the sun is going down. We still haven’t had a fire yet, but I don’t think it’s gonna be too much longer. It seems to be a hard and fast rule that when the pumpkin spice delicacies start making their fall debut, a fire in the fireplace can’t be too far behind.

Yes, fall is my favorite. I’m okay with winter and love what few snows we do get; winters tend to (usually) be mild here in Arkansas. I absolutely love spring; it’s a time of new starts and promises of good things to come. I love seeing the flowers I’ve transplanted from my momma’s yard start coming back to life after a long winter’s sleep. Her blue irises are still as pretty as they were when they used to be in her flower garden a lifetime ago. Summer is my least favorite season; the best thing about summer for me is when it’s over and fall begins; summers in the south are relentless, especially for an old fat granny.

But now it’s officially fall and I’m in my happy place. The leaves on our maple trees are beginning to sport those lovely shades of crimson and orange and purple. Every now and then I get a faint intoxicating scent of burning leaves, one of my favorite smell memories. Although I haven’t been to a football game in years, I still love everything about it; it’s the official start of fall. I love the roar of the crowd; I love the marching bands; I love the happy cheerleaders who never act like they’re freezing (“happy leaders”); I love when the announcer (usually a local “good ol’ boy”) gets so enthusiastic that there is no doubt about which team his own son is playing for. I love cooking big pots of chili and stew and soup (and banana bread). I just love every single thing about fall. (We say “fall” here in the South; some of you prefer “autumn”. “Fall” is what leaves do; they also swirl in the wind and I might prefer “swirl” over “fall”; it’s a shame I wasn’t consulted when the seasons were named. My randomness is kicking in, along with the caffeine. Can I pour you another cup of coffee?) Yes, fall is most definitely my favorite time of the year.

I’ll just have to confess right now that I’m really not a big fan of Halloween. I don’t even begin to like any of the scary movies – a required precursor to the Hallmark Christmas movies; who in the world wants to be SKEERED????? (“Skeered” is the southern version of “scared”.) When I was a little girl, I enjoyed Halloween then; it was a different time; mommas didn’t have to worry about their kids; kids didn’t have to worry about someone putting sharp objects or drugs in their candy stash. In my wildest dreams I would have never believed that while little children were out trick or treating, there were groups gathered with evil intentions. But I digress; I do have a funny Halloween memory, and I’ll tell you about it in just a minute.

I grew up in the country as an only child, so trick or treating was not a big deal like it seems to be now. I was allowed to walk to my grandma’s house (almost next door) and to one or two close neighbors. I looked forward to the homemade treats; I dreaded those cheap wax witch candies, but I knew if I didn’t act appropriately thankful and tickled to death over witch candy, then my momma would most definitely give me something to be “skeered” about. I remember a big splurge was getting to buy a “store bought” Halloween mask; usually my momma would use lard (yep) and whatever she could find in the cabinet to tint it to use for scary makeup. (And I just had an “ah ha!” moment – no wonder the dogs would follow me; I must have smelled like a walking strip of bacon!) But one special Halloween somehow there was enough money for my momma to get some black crepe paper and make me a witch outfit. I was soooooo proud of that beautiful dress and hat; my lard makeup was tinted just enough to give me a green glow; I was the best witch ever. I remember it being almost dark and the night wind was beginning to pick up when I set out for my grandma’s house; it was the beginning of a perfect Halloween night. My grandma came to the door properly “skeered” and surprised, with homemade popcorn balls for her little witch. I only had a couple more houses to get to . . . but the wind was now making that “skeery” howling sound; it began to sprinkle rain, and then the bottom dropped out. This memory is burned into my mind. By the time I got to the neighbor’s house, my beautiful black crepe paper witch dress and hat had gotten wet enough to fade all over me; the thin paper was stuck to me like glue; my lovely green face was streaked with black. I can only imagine how I must have looked when our sweet neighbor opened the door. A “skeery” sight for sure! That was sixty years ago and I still laugh every time I think about it. But the evening did not end on a bad note at all. This sweet neighbor, who had no children of her own, had a wonderful surprise waiting on me when I got there. After she got me dried off, she took me to the back porch where she had a #2 “warsh” tub filled with apples. I “bobbed” for apples until there was no more black lard on my happy little witch face. (Yes, we say “warsh” here in the south; some know it better as “wash”; and a #2 “warsh” tub was just the right size for a child to bathe in. Its practical application was to catch enough rainwater to “warsh” clothes in the wringer “warshing” machine. Let me just tell you this: I will never ever take my laundry room for granted. Ever.)

Yes, Halloween is a time for all things “skeery”. Even as an adult, there are still a few things that terrify me just a little: snakes, tornadoes, My Stanley’s driving, unexplained sounds during the night when My Stanley has gone camping during deer season. Healthy fear can be a motivation to escape danger; it’s the fear of uncertainties and things beyond our control that can paralyze our lives. God never intended us to live like that.

But you know what? There is no need for any of us to ever be afraid. God gave us the sense of fear to protect ourselves from snakes and tornadoes and dangerous situations, and that’s a productive kind of fear. But the fear that just grips our hearts and won’t let us have any peace of mind is the kind of fear that God wants us to give to Him. So many times He just simply said, “Fear not.” That fear that consumes our whole being when we get a diagnosis that is devastating; that fear that paralyzes us when our child is late coming home and unaccounted for; that fear that we just can’t make ends meet and financial implications are always looming over our head; that fear that our marriage is crumbling; all the fears that keep us tossing and turning, night after long night – all these fears are the ones that God wants us to turn over to Him. “Fear not”, He says over and over. He may not necessarily answer our prayers in the way that we think is best, but He WILL give us the peace of mind to make it through any situation that Satan throws our way. This I know for sure. I pray that you know the Lord and have the peace of mind that only He can give, whatever your “skeery” situation may be.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
~ John 14:27
“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear;
but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
~ 2 Timothy 1:7

Don’t be “skeered”; it’s just Benny The Amazing Wonder Boy!