My Mother, Myself, and Laura Ingalls
My mother had a great passion for reading, and I am blessed that she instilled in me this same love. The “Little House” series by Laura Ingalls Wilder held a special place in both our hearts.
My mother claimed that she began reading to me while I was still in the womb. She loved reading, and perhaps this was a formative step in kindling my own love of books. When I was small, my mother read to me every night. We had many favorites during my childhood, especially “Ferdinand the Bull” and “Robert the Rose Horse”. The writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder inspired a particularly magical connection between the two of us. During my youth, the television version of Little House on the Prairie was quite popular. I always preferred the books, though. As an only child living on a farm, my friends were my animals and my books. Opening up one of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s stories, I could immediately dive into another world — and I understood the character of Laura with her headstrong nature, her love of animals, and her long braids.
My mother quickly figured out that books were my currency. To inspire me to complete a task or achieve a goal, she would let me pick out the book that would be my well-won reward. I was surprisingly motivated as a child if I could earn a book through an accomplishment! Conversely, if I did not focus or I neglected a responsibility, my mother took away favorite books until I earned them back. The threatened loss of Gone with the Wind or The Witch of Blackbird Pond could quickly correct even my worst behavior. My most beloved books, though, were my set of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series. I was so obsessed with her writings that when a neighbor asked me “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, I answered ‘Laura Ingalls!’ That is one of my first memories of an adult laughing and telling me that I could not do something. Much like Laura might have, I harbored that memory inside my rebellious little heart and plotted to prove the adult wrong.
Books became the source of many life lessons for me, and numerous ones came directly from Laura Ingalls. My mother read her stories over & over to me, then I read them to myself as I grew. These well-worn books taught me many lessons from the stories of Laura’s own youth. My mother could quickly reference those episodes any time she needed to reinforce a particular lesson. One story that my mother often highlighted is one that I still share with my young helpers to this day: Ma & the bear.
As Laura Ingalls told the story, Pa had gone to town for a few days to get supplies while they lived in The Little House in the Woods in Wisconsin. Ma capably handled the farm in his absence, but it was much extra work to manage. It was late in the evening as she finished chores one night, and young Laura was tagging along with her. As Ma approached the barn, she was surprised to see the cow still out in her pen, instead of safely in the barn for the night. They walked up to the fence, and Ma slapped at the cow’s rump while telling her to head into the barn. Suddenly — Ma stopped. She told Laura to turn around and walk to the house. Laura did so, and halfway there she felt Ma pick her up, run into the house, and bar the door behind them. When Ma calmed down, she told Laura that it had not been the cow that Ma slapped on the backside . . . It was a bear. The cow had already gone in the barn for safety. In the dark, Ma did not realize it was a bear until she touched it. If Laura had stopped to question her mother’s directions or had balked at following her mother’s guidance, the bear could have attacked them both. They were safe because Laura had prudently followed her mother’s instructions — and Mother loved that lesson!
My mother & I had the good fortune to visit nearly every place that Laura Ingalls & her family resided: the woods of Wisconsin, the town of Burr Oak (which brought such sadness that Laura never even wrote about it), the dugout house on the Banks of Plum Creek, the claim on the prairie of Dakota, and the house in DeSmet where Pa & Ma finally settled. After my mother’s diagnosis with cancer, we had a trip planned to South Dakota for a symposium on sheep. We planned to drive out west, and we prioritized a stop in Missouri to see the house where Laura & her husband Almanzo spent much of their married life. There, at Rocky Ridge Farm, we learned that Laura & Almanzo had been pioneers of goat farming: they had one of the first commercial herds in the state and were advocates for goats. Of course, this further endeared Laura to me!
After leaving Rocky Ridge Farm, Mother & I realized that we only had one home of Laura’s which we had not visited: the Little House on the Prairie in Kansas. Analyzing our timeline for travels, we decided we could make it work, and we headed for Independence, Kansas. It brought us great joy to know we had traveled the paths of Laura’s family, albeit with a different form of transport! That adventure also opened up another: as we headed down a rural Kansas road, there was a sign pointing to Oklahoma only seven miles south. My mother commented that she had never been to Oklahoma, and I immediately turned left to follow the sign south. Moments later, my grandmother called, and my mother shared that we were headed to Oklahoma. My baffled Grandmother responded, “But — I thought you were going to South Dakota! Oklahoma is NOT on the way!” When your mother has never been to Oklahoma, and you are on an epic adventure that might well be her last, you turn south even if your destination is far north.
After that trip, I wrote an essay about the travels which my mother & I had taken, and entered it in the annual Laura Ingalls Essay Competition. Yes — there really is one! My second place finish in that competition is one of my proudest achievements: it was not great literature by any means, but my mother got to read it and she knew that she had inspired my award. This was in the last few months of her life, and she was so excited for me. Mother always believed in my writing, and she was my biggest fan at any speech I gave — no matter how many times she heard me tell the same stories to different audiences.
I think often of the connection between my mother, myself, and Laura Ingalls. I think of it when I see one of my childhood photos with me in braids and a prairie dress of the style of the late 1970s. I think of it when I put the ornaments on the Christmas tree that we got at the gift shops at Laura’s homes. I think of it every time I tell the story of Ma & the bear to explain to a young person the importance of following instructions from trusted adults in urgent situations. My life began with the gift of reading which Mother gave me. This gift nurtured our own connection, and opened doors for me in the world. She lived long enough to see clearly how my life was shaped by the passion for books which she instilled in me.
From my childhood through my young adult years, my mother encouraged my admiration for Laura Ingalls Wilder. Laura was a farmer, a writer, a teacher, a businesswoman, a public speaker, and a fan of goats. She was also stubborn, resilient, and resourceful. As a child, I bitterly harbored the memory of the adult who laughed at my dream of growing up to be Laura Ingalls. Then, I was an affronted five year old in braids and cowboy boots. Now, I have been fortunate to achieve in my own way many of the things which I admired about Laura Ingalls. All thanks to my beloved mother, who believed in me.