John and Tony

John was a good boy; he worked very hard to help me and his dad. Many times I would ask him to help with his brother Tony's chores, so his father wouldn't get angry at Tony for not doing his chores. John gladly helped him.

Tony enjoyed playing with his friends. The younger children loved him. He always took time to hear their problems out and helped them if he could. He loved climbing trees and sliding downhill with his friends. He owned a big sled. He played ball.

One day John said, “I'm not helping Tony do his chores anymore. He is healthy enough to play anything he wants. He is healthy enough to do his share of work.” Because Tony was sick as a baby, I was easy-going on him.

I couldn't contradict John because he was right, so from that day on Tony had to do his own share of the work. Of course, some days his share of work didn't get done. His father punished him for it. While his father punished him, if he would only say, “I'm sorry I didn't do my work,” his father would stop, but Tony was so stubborn he wouldn't say it. The children would feel bad for him. They would stick their heads from the doorways and tell their brother, “Tony, tell Dad you're sorry.” But he never would.

One day I read a book on children and their upbringing. It taught me a lesson that to spare the child and to make life easy for him was bad. When this child grew up and went into the world, mother and father wouldn't be there to protect him.

From then on Tony was treated like the rest. He was very upset by it. All he could think of was that I didn't love him anymore. He carried on. It broke my heart. Sometimes he would cry and yell until the pipes in his throat would swell up. I just wouldn't give in. Finally he began to understand why I was doing it. It was for his own good. I'm happy I read that book, because I found out what to do.

From then on Tony was a good, understanding fellow. Everyone liked him. He was always happy and smiling. He has two dimples and was a good looking boy.

Tony loved to grow flowers and keep animals. He planted flowers all around the house and put morning glories along our screen porch. He would collect the seeds and use them for planting in the next year. The surplus seeds he collected he would give to our relatives. We used to tease him and say a blade of grass would grow for him. He inherited that from his father.

Tony had a pet cat and a black and white spotted chicken. One day his pet cat got her head in a can. We couldn't take it out. Tony got frantic and was crying like a baby. Finally he got his father to help. His father took a pair of pliers and cut the can in two, and the cat was freed. Tony thanked his father over and over for saving his cat. Tony looks more like my father and youngest brother, but he is a lot like his father about things he likes to do.

Tony's brother John looks like his father, but his choice of work is entirely different. John loves to work with electricity; his hands are always dirty from work. In his teens he worked at gasoline stations.

When John and Tony were about 13 years old they went to work at the greenhouses with their father and nine other men. They liked to go weekends and sometimes after school. It gave them money to spend and put in the bank. They got along fine with the other men. The men would tell my husband he had two well-mannered boys.

It took me many years to figure out how different the two brothers are. Sometimes I would tell my father how different my children were. He would say to me, “Hold up your hand. You have five fingers. They are all different. You have five children , and they are all different.”