MaryHelen Cuellar [MH or Mimi]

  1943 -
  City of Birth:
Macon, Georgia

MaryHelen's Story

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It Has Been A Rough Year

I am adding this additional chapter to my introduction, because after I initially wrote the introduction, it was very difficult to come back to it and try to make sense of all that I have experienced through the various stages of my life and the trials that I have endured or overcome.  I wish ...


The Birth of Charles Leonard Wiggins

The story has already been written for awhile on my blog "From the heart of Praise, Prayer and Perseverance. 0; Here is a link to that posting, Below are the pictures of the blessed event.   http://fromthehea rt-dotwigg.blogsp other-2-prayer-re ml


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MaryHelen's Story > Chapters > Mean Girls

"Mean Girls" 


Date Range: 07/01/1953 To 07/31/1953   Comments: 3   Views: 401
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As was my custom one day when I was 10, I went outside to find someone to play with. In 1953, children did not stay in the house much, especially in Texas where the weather permitted playing outside almost the entire year. Only in August when the hot sun felt like it was laying on the ground or in January when your nose would practically freeze but usually that was only a couple of days that the weather was either 106 or 13. Friends of ours across the street were actually locked out of their house by their mother during the day. She would bring water to them to drink at the front door, but they were not allowed free access to the house. I always appreciated my mother giving me free rein to move in and out of the house. This particular day, I have no recollection of what transpired before as I've described in snapshot memories; the long ago memories are clear but fragmented. The memory begins with me approaching the house which was one down from ours, going west. As I’ve said before, we lived on a block with 25 cookie cutter houses on one side and 25 facing them on the other side. My father served in the war, and these houses were readily available on the G.I. bill. They were “starter” houses with a lot of young people with young children. I had 4 girls my age on my side of the street alone. It must have been a summer day as I do remember having on shorts and a midriff top, made by my grandmother for the hot summer days. Girls my age were allowed to wear them in our family, teens were not. My set was blue with little yellow flowers. My hair was dark and curly, neck length as my mother never let it grow out; she liked my curls. I was barefoot of course. We kids rarely wore shoes in the summer. When we had to put them on Sunday for church and Sunday school, my feet felt like they were In prison. < Just as I finished telling her my story, there was a knock at the open screen door. My mother went to the door (No one closed and locked their doors in the 50’s; we also had no A/C so it was essential for the door to be open, but screens were also essential to keep out all the Texas bugs) and I followed, staying close to her side so I could duck my head behind her if I needed. At the door were Barbara’s mother, Barbara, and Barbara’s friend, the girl’s obviously not happy. Barbara’s mother apologized to mother for the girl’s treatment of me, and then ordered them firmly to apologize (all of this done through the screen door as my mother did not invite them in). The girls stammered their apologies, stony-faced and then the heavens opened and a light shone down on Barbara’s mother as she invited me to the movies with them. I was immediately estatic and grinning. My mother said “Just a minute,” and took me into the bedroom to talk to me about it.> < “Do you want to go,” my mother said. (Are you kidding)? Was in my head but I just shook my head up and down. My mother said, “I don’t know why you want to be with girls who don’t want to be with you.” (Evidently mother had more intuitive skills than I did at that point in my life as she could see the girls were being made to invite me). It was then I began to be worried that my mother wouldn’t let me go, but she said: “Get your shoes on.” I put on the dreaded shoes with no argument, and went to the front door to go to the movies!> < The next memory I have (wrote a whole story about snapshot memories which by the way, are not restricted to kids; the older I get, the more my memory is built of snapshot memories) is that of me sitting in the back of the theater with Barbara’s mother, not down in front with the girls. Have no memory of what transpired for that to happen. Did I sit with them and they were rude to me? Or did the mother just tell me to sit with her because she could see they were going to ignore me? Who knows? I just remember sitting there happily watching the movie which I don’t remember what it was either. I remember many movies in that theater from Doris Day to John Wayne to Elvis Presley, but not what I saw that day.>

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Member Since
Aug 2007
Brian Childers said:
posted on Dec 08, 2012

I think it's because as we get older there are so, so many memories that it's easier to categorize them that way. I see mine in shots too. Just moments in time. The rest I just sort of make up -LOL! 

Member Since
Dec 2007
Sarah S said:
posted on Dec 10, 2012
Snapshot memories

I have a lot of those, too! I think that is why I like writing down stories, so I can look back and remember more of the details! :)

Member Since
Feb 2009
MaryHelen Cuellar said:
posted on Apr 02, 2013

thanks Brian & Sarah for reading my story!