The Honest-to-Goodness
Libby jumped right in with what was bothering her. "Can the truth be wrong?"
"Oh, no," Miz Tusselbury said, fanning faster. "The truth is never wrong.
Always, always tell the truth!"
"That's what I thought," Libby said, a smile of relief lighting up her face.
Miz Tusselbury leaned over the railing to pluck a bloom from one of the vines
that grew all over her yard and up her house. "Don't you think my garden is lovely?"
Libby thought on it. Ordinarily she would have just said yes, for fear of
sounding sassy. But that wasn't the truth. So polite as you please, she answered, "Miz Tusselbury, truly and honestly, your yard looks like
a . . . a . . . a jungle."
"Well, I declare!" Miz Tusselbury gasped.
"Don't be mad!" Libby pleaded.
But it was too late. Miz Tusselbury rushed inside her house and slammed
the door.
Even though Mama was busy putting the finishing touches on
Virginia Washington's wedding dress, she still took time to listen to Libby's problem.
"I feel something awful. My friends don't like me no more."
"Any more," repeated her mother.
"No, they don't—and just 'cause I told the truth." The girl sighed deeply.
Handing her a needle to thread, Mama asked gently, "Are you sure they're
mad at you for telling the truth?"
"I think so," said Libby. "Willie was mad as a hornet when I told Miz Jackson
he didn't have his homework. And Miz Tusselbury got plenty upset when I said her garden looked like a jungle."
Mama smiled. "Oh, I see." Then, putting down her work, she took Libby's
hands, saying, "Sometimes the truth is told at the wrong time or in the wrong way, or for the wrong reasons. And that can be harmful. But the honest-to-goodness truth is never wrong." Then Mama went back to stitching and pulling, stitching and pulling.
Now Libby thought back on her own truth-telling, and Mama's words suddenly
became crystal clear.
The next day, Libby caught up with her friends on the way to school. Libby
apologized to Willie. "I should have let you tell Miz Jackson 'bout your own homework. It was unfair. Besides, nobody asked me in the first place."
"That's all right. But, hey," he added, "do you think you could help me with my
geography homework?"
"No problem," said Libby.
Later, Libby talked to all the other victims of her truth-telling.
But there was one more person she had to see. On the way home, she
headed straight for Miz Tusselbury's house.
Libby found her neighbor out front, down on all fours, pulling up flowers and
snatching up vines by the roots. When Miz Tusselbury saw her, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand and flashed a full smile.
"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings yesterday," Libby said.
"Libby Louise, you were right," Miz Tusselbury replied. "This place had gone
completely and uncontrollably wild!"
"But you were so mad at me."
Miz Tusselbury waved a dismissing hand. "The truth is often hard to chew.
But if it is sweetened with love, then it is a little easier to swallow."
Libby really did understand. She picked up a hoe and began helping. "Things
are really looking pretty good around here," she said. And that was the honest-to-goodness truth.
Why Possum's Tail Is Bare
from
p. 224mSoon the other animals began to call, "Possum dance! Possum, dance!" So
Possum reached around behind him and pulled off the red string. With that, every hair on his tail fell off, but Possum didn't know it. He leaped into the circle of firelight and began to dance, singing, "See my beautiful bushy, furry tail!" The animals began to laugh. Possum sang, "See how it sweeps the ground!" And the animals laughed louder.
Possum decided maybe they hadn't heard him right, and so he sang louder,
and the animals laughed harder. Finally, Possum realized that something must be wrong. He looked around behind him, and instead of the beautiful bushy, furry tail that he had always known, there was a long, red, skinny, hairless tail. Possum was so surprised and humiliated, all he could do was fall to the ground and grin helplessly, which Possum still does whenever you take him by surprise. And Possum's grandchildren all have red, skinny, hairless tails to this very day.
located in barns or sheds some distance from the house. In the winter months they used chamber pots that were emptied daily. Bathing was infrequent, probably done no more than once a month. Often this consisted of washing the hands and face only. Many people thought bathing opened the skin's pores to disease. Submersing the body in water was considered by some to be improper. Several states even tried to pass laws making bathing illegal!
Many homes built during colonial times are still standing today. You can see
and visit these houses throughout what used to be the thirteen original colonies. They are a testimony to the skill and craftsmanship of those who built them.
T.R. TOC
PrintResources
