Sister Mary Celine, O.S.F.

Autobiography

I was born on February 16, 1906 in Marion County, Kansas. I was

baptized shortly afterward, receiving the name of Agnes Elizabeth.

My parents were born in England. Both came to the country in

young manhood and womanhood with the prospect of "getting on".

I received First Holy Communion at the age of ten. We had Mass

and instructions once a month. At the age of twelve I was confirmed

by the Right Reverend John J. Hennessy of Wichita.

Then, when thirteen my father was taken very sick and suffered

from asthma. The doctor prescribed Colorado's healing rays. This

was a new epoch in my life. I was now to attend a Catholic school

and receive some religious training. After my Sophomore year at

St. Joseph's I attended Mt.St.Gertrude's (sic). By the next year, St.

Joseph's had added third and fourth year high, so again I resumed

my studies at St. Joseph's, graduating on June 8, 1925.

As to sickness I had all diseases common to children such as,

mumps, measles, whooping cough, and chicken pox. When about fourteen

years I was in the early stages of consumption. But plenty of rest,

wholesome food, and sunshine did its work.

I would of come to the convent directly after graduation but

on account of lack of funds, I did housework for a year. On July 5,

1926 I took my vacation, visiting my brothers and sister in Kansas.

On August 11, 1926, a little over a month later a tired and, would

you believe it, a homesick trio arrived at the convent. The homesick-

ness soon passed and in its place came happiness and a stronger desire

for zeal of souls.

THE SOD HOUSE

Turn back the pages of the past with me and visit our farm in Marion, Kansas.

I will introduce you to the home of my early youth in the wheat belt of the nation.

From 1874⁽¹⁾ to 1878 a phenomanal (sic) influx of immigrants, mostly German-Russian⁽²⁾

Menonites⁽³⁾ poured into central Kansas. The wide open praries (sic) and the rich grass-

lands lured these sturdy pioneers to take up homesteads, in some instances, or buy

land at $2.50 an acre from the Santa Fe Railroad⁽⁴⁾. These new World farmers from

an old world culture came prepared to expand their agricultural knowledge. They

sowed the hard grain winter wheat that they had so preciously carried in cans or

jars from their native land. Only the best grains had crossed the ocean with them.

It was here in this new land that many built sod houses as trees and lumber were

scarce.

It was such a house that I lived in during my early childhood. We took it for

granted and never thought about the novelty of living in a sod house. To me it

was a comfortable home nestling amid the fields of wheat, corn and grazing lands.

As a sod house it was an ingenious work with walls cut from solid turf. These

walls eighteen inches thick of hard sod were white-washed on the interior and cover-

ed with clap-board on the exterior. Each spring my mother would mix a bucket of

lime with water and add a generous⁽⁵⁾ dose of bluing to insure (sic) a white coat. The

whole house was daisy-white and look and smelled as fresh as the first blossoms

of spring.

Red geraniums always seemed to be blooming on the wide sills of those little

yard-square windows. As a youngster I loved to run my fingers over⁽⁶⁾ the ruffled

white curtains sashed to each side of the window to let the sun shine in.

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The front door was not unlike a stable door as it was divided into two. When

we wanted fresh air or more light, we could open the top half. Then we could look

out at the roses that lined the path down to the mail box at the roadside.

Memories of spring and summer tumble through my mind as I recall the fragance (sic)

of fresh mowed alfalfa. When I was small my brother and I would carry jugs of

cold Water, lemonade, or cold tea to the men in the haying field. A broomstick

handle slipped through the handle of the jug divided the burden as we trudged

along each carrying a paper bag with sandwiches and big homemade sugar cookies

for the men to munch on. I admired the smooth conical shape my father was giving

the stack, knowing that so formed it would shed the rain and sleet of stormy wea-

ther.

Later I too, took part in the haying. I drove a spirited team raking the hay

into winrows⁽⁷⁾ (sic), while my older brother drove a similar team on the sweeprake. How

proud I was to attempt to keep the winrows (sic) even and straight. That I knew would

bring words of praise from my father when we gathered for supper or sat out on the

kitchen stoop in the cool of the evening.

But our home was comparatively cool. The thick walls kept out the scorching⁽⁸⁾

Kansas sun. All four rooms of our house were on the ground floor. Extending

eighteen inches above each outside wall was a portion of Russian brick⁽⁹⁾ which gave

ample height to form a slanting roof. This space served as an attic. It also

absorbed the heat in summer and the cold in winter. The ceiling and the floors

were of fitted six-inch boards. Although I rarely saw the floors as they were

covered with rag carpet. Every available source of material was converted into

rags, sewed and wound into big balls which were taken to a weaver who designed and

wove the balls of carpet rags into a firm and pleasing appearing carpet.

Threshing time not only brought the harvest to anend but also provided straw

for our bed ticks. Every ticking was emptied and washed ready for the new golden

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straw. This was stuffed into the ticks making a nice thich (sic) mattress for the com-

ing year. How we enjoyed those first nights on the freshly filled ticks!

But winter too, had its pleasures and its special events. Who didn't look for-

ward to butchering time and the joy of having fresh meat? Mother never let me

witness the actual killing of the three or four pigs butchered annually. When the

unpleasant work was accomplished and the carcasses were trussed up on the limb of

a tall tree to cool and harden, I watched my father begin to carve them up into hams,

sides of bacon, roasts and convenient sizes of meat. How deftly father removed

the leaf lard from the pork loin. All unnecessary fat was trimmed from the hams

and bacon for lard. Our kitchen became a vertible (sic) beehive of activity. Every

available hand was welcomed for cutting the fat for lard. This rendering took

place outside in a large cauldron with a wood fire under it. How carefully it

was watched so that not a particle would be scorched. When finished, the liquid

fat was poured into a press. Soon clear liquid spouted out into five gallon crocks

When cooled the lard was as white as the driven snow. What was needed for use was

stored away in the cellar; the rest was taken to the general store for an exchange

of groceries. On those first days after butchering we feasted on fried liver with

onions, baked hearts with dressing and cold sliced head-cheese on fresh bread. what

tales that little house could tell if it could speak!

Just as intriguing was the making of mince meat (sic). Again all available hands

were on duty for special jobs. Apples had to be peeled and diced, suet to be chop-

ped, stewed beef to be cut into small pieces as well as citron, and orange peel.

Raisins and currents (sic) had to be mixed into the large container. Finally sweet cidar (sic)

was added to the mixture to provide sufficient moisture. What fragrant and tantal-

izing odors arose from the mince meat (sic). We envisioned the delicious pies we would

enjoy when it had set up and seasoned. I often wondered if other families enjoyed

these shared tasks as we did.

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Christmas in our little sod house was another occasion to remember. My younger

brother and I accompanied my father to help him select and bring home the fragrant

cedar tree. This was trimmed with many strings of pop corn (sic). Cranberries, too,

like red jewels were strung and looped from branch to branch. How we⁽¹⁰⁾ admired and

loved our tree! We thought it was the finest and prettiest tree we had ever seen.

As you may have concluded, all was not work or eating although we thoroughly en-

joyed both. I remember the severe winter of 1912. It was a very cold season with

snow storms that turned into blizzards blocking the roads; closing the schools and

hemming us in between the four walls. Mother was a wonderful reader with a pleas-

ant voice that never seemed to tire. As soon as chores were finished and supper

over, we huddled around the big heating stove ready for our night's entertainment.

Such marvelous tales: THE MADCAP SET AT ST. ANN'S,SEA GULLS ROCK, THE CIRCUS RIDER'S

DAUGHTER, BY THE BRANSCOM RIVER, and NAN NOBODY to mention a few. Adventure, thrill-

ing escapades and tender love stories made the evening pass all too quickly. We

were sorry to see the storms abate, and signs of spring appear, for then our read-

ing came to an end.

But what eventually happened to the little sod house? I am sure you would like

to know. In 1917 we raised a bumper wheat crop and built a modern eight-room house.

The walls of the sod house filled⁽¹¹⁾ in a decline in the yard and made a fine sloping

embankment from the house to the road.

If you should pass that farm today, you would behold a shining steel plow mounted

on a platform to remind all passersby that the Menonites (sic) brought posperity (sic) and the

hard wheat to Kansas. And there are still traces of the tracks through the pas-

tures where the wagon wheels of the pioneers wore a grove (sic) as they traversed the then

prarie (sic) land. More poignant still are the two little graves each marked with a lilac

bush near the mounted plow. These were two little children who had died either from

sickness, or accident or hardship enroute to their new home in America. When we

were children, we gathered violets, daisies and buttercups to decorate their graves.

Even though we had never known them in life, we sensed the bravery and dignity that

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seemed to surround them. This was part of the price the early settlers paid to

establish a home in the New World. Parting from homeland, sickness, death , yes

and even sod house!

1. "1874" had a superscript "1", without further information.

2. "German-Russian" had a superscript "2" without further information.

3. "Menonites" (sic) had a superscript "3" without further information. Proper spelling is Mennonites.

4. "Santa Fe Railroad" had a superscript "4" without further information.

5. Editorial note; the letter "g" in "generous" has been added. It was not visible on the source document.

6. Editorial note; the letter "o" in "over" has been added. It was not visible on the source document.

7. For those of us not raised in the cornbelt, "windrow" is defined by "The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language: 4th Edition; 2000" as, "2. A long row of cut hay or grain left to dry in a field before being bundled."

8. Editorial note; the letters "ching" in "scorching" have been added. They were not visible on the source document.

9. "Russian brick" had a superscript "5" without further information.

10. Editorial note; the word "we" has been inserted, filling a small space in the source document.

11. Editorial note; the letter "f" in "filled" has been added. It was not visible on the source document.