THE BUSH FAMILY
SALLY BUSH
"Aunt Sally" was my godmother, and, after my parents,
the favorite person in my young life. I loved her, not only for the wonderful
gifts she gave me, but for the happy, carefree times we had together.
I often think of us roaming the fields behind Bush
House, gathering flowers and climbing fences together; playmates escaping
the adult world to freedom. Her childlike quality was delightful, and even
young as I was, I knew in my heart that Aunt Sally was a special person,
definitely more fun than any other grown-up in my world. She seemed to
know how children have a good time.
"Come on, Anna Maria," she would call from the other
side of a fence she had just scaled. "You can do it!" And I would manage
to get my little legs and self over.
Visiting the barn was the highlight of a romp with
Sally. It was large, and dusty, and fragrant with hay and animal smells;
just right for horses and a goat or two. There was always time to pat and
speak to each animal.
I quite simply basked in her gentle aura. I admired
especially the way she moved; her walk, light and graceful as a dancer.
Her prematurely white hair she brushed up and secured in a loose knot on
top of her head; this soft nimbus framed a strong, pretty face, full of
humor and interest in her companion. You received her undivided attention,
and you felt blest!
So many people loved Aunt Sally: the poor families
to whom she brought food, the hobos and down-and-outers who appeared at
the back door of the Bush house for a hot meal and a cheering word.
"Papa", as she called Mr. Bush, disliked having
this commotion at the rear of his house, and at times became very cross
about it. Yet, because he loved Sally, and it meant a great deal to her,
he permitted it.
Her kindness is legend and history now, and visitors
to Bush House, which is now a museum, are told about Sally's charities.
The cook, I might add, must have, been a saint to prepare those extra
meals. She was also kind to part with some of her favorite recipes, when
my mother asked for them.
Sally loved nature, including grass,
to be "natural", to be allowed to grow as God intended it. So she forbade
the grass around the house to be cut. Somewhere I have a photo of her standing
in this tall grass and smiling as though pleased to find herself in its
midst.
Flowers grew in abundance in the greenhouse, and
Sally reserved for herself the task of arranging bouquets for the house.
She had a talent for it and taught my mother this art. The only rule about
it I remember is that there must always be some white in every bouquet
to enhance its beauty.
Sally enjoyed sending bouquets to friends. Often
she would tuck a little gift in among the flowers as a special surprise.
Once, when Sally was arranging a bouquet for a friend,
my mother noticed that she was about to hide a small box in it. Sally opened
it to show her a diamond ring!
"What if she doesn't happen to see it?" Mama suggested.
"You had better have Jacob tell her to look for a surprise."
One day Mama noticed that Sally's hand
was swollen.
"Is something wrong with your hand, Sally?"
"Oh. . .it's nothing really. My ring is a bit too
tight."
She showed her the angry, red finger.
"Perhaps the ring should be cut off, so the finger
can be treated. I'm afraid it could get worse otherwise."
"No. . .no. . .it will be all right. . .Someone
I was fond of gave it to me, and I can't bear to have it ruined!"
Anna told Angus, and he sent word to Sally that
he had something to discuss with her, and would she please come in as soon
as possible?
The next morning Sally did visit him. He noticed
that she covered one hand with the other, as they talked about Miss Eugenia
or her father.
Angus held his right hand behind his back; in it
was a tiny pair of wire nippers.
"Sally," he began, "Anna tells me you have a sore
finger. Let's have a look at it." He held out his left hand, and reluctantly
she brought out the now red and swollen little hand.
Angus was alarmed. He was holding it in his hand,
when, at that very moment, there was a loud, crashing sound in the street
below. As Sally turned, startled, towards the window, swiftly Angus grasped
the hand and finger firmly, and in an instant had snipped the ring.
"Doctor!" cried Sally, as Angus carefully opened
the ring and slipped it away from the finger, "you've ruined ray precious
ring!" She looked up at his sharply and then laughed.
"My, you were clever! Did you arrange that crash
in the street to occur at just that moment? You knew I wouldn't have let
you cut my ring!"
"Well, I had to trick you, and you know it's for
the best. Now we can treat this infection. Here. . . let me just clean
it a bit." He did so and sent her on her way with instructions to soak
it in epsom salts and keep it bandaged. He would check it the next time
he visited Bush house.
As she entered the dining-room at breakfast
one morning at the Bush house, my mother was surprised to find Sally gazing
down at a piece of slightly burnt toast. A new maid had just set it
tentatively before her, and was saying, "Oh, miss Sally, this toast
is a bit burnt. Shall I take it back to the kitchen? I can bring some that's
just right."
Sally smiled up, at her and said pleasantly, "No,
this will be just fine. This is the way I like my toast."
"Very well, ma'am, I'll remember," said she.
When she had left, mama whispered, "But, Sally,
you can't be serious!"
Sally whispered back with finality, "She's a new
maid and very nervous, I was merely saving her embarrassment,"
From then on, at every breakfast, Sally's toast
was slightly burnt. Mama thought this was definitely going too far in striving
to always be as kind as possible; but one could not help loving Sally for
her unwavering goodness of heart !
Sally knew how to make a special occasion
of something like a tea-party for 3 in the sunny alcove of the living-room.
Tea or coffee for them and chocolate for me in delicate china cups. Little
cakes and cookies, proper napkins, and a small bouquet; in the center of
the table, and merry conversation. I felt very special!
How I wish I could thank her all over
again for the lovely things she gave me, From my babyhood until I was 18
she never forgot a birthday or a Christmas!
The first gift was a silver christening cup, which,
as godmother, she brought to my baptism. I feel as though should say "fairy
godmother" because of the number and beauty of the gifts she gave me! Early
ones were a small diamond ring and a coral necklace, baby-size. Then came
the many books: Fairy Tales from Perrault, with Edmund Dulac illustrations,
a little Peter Rabbit in French, and a large, generously illustrated Pinocchio
which all my children have loved in turn. These are just a few I happen
to think of. Bracelets and necklaces arrived, piece after piece, and party
dresses from Paris. Some or these lovely things
I still have.
In addition she wrote to me often, after we moved
to California in 1922, when I was 6; letters full of cheer and encouragement,
and little stories about whatever was happening in her life.
Looking back over the years to my childhood, I realize
that her kindness and thoughtful attention, and her steadfastness in never
forgetting me were the gifts I now appreciate most of all!
How lucky I am to have had such a friend!
NEXT: ASAHEL BUSH III
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