Today’s guest post was written by my mom, Lorraine Strohbehn. 

My friend Jenny recently brought us a stack of magazines. They were filled with memories from the good old days—that time enhanced by poor memory and good imagination. What fun these magazines are to read!

Jenny dropped off the magazines just after I had completed the weekly cleaning of our home. Perhaps that is why reading those old stories stirred my childhood memories of cleaning day.

As a young girl, helping my mother with cleaning was a regular Saturday task. Since I had no brothers or sisters, I was it—the co-cleaning lady alongside my mother—and my tasks always included washing the kitchen floor.

We lived on a farm and had a country kitchen which, to a nine-year-old girl, looked as big as a gymnasium! (It actually was pretty generous in size.) Our old oak kitchen table seated twenty-four when all the leaves were inserted. There was a wood-burning kitchen stove, a sink with a pump on one side and a bucket hidden behind the door, plus all the other usual kitchen necessities.

Cleaning that room truly was a monumental task—particularly the inlaid linoleum-covered floor. Because World War II was still going on, everyone wore composition-soled shoes because the rubber was needed for our military vehicles. Believe me, the black strokes and streaks made by those composition soles took a lot of coaxing to separate it from the linoleum! It seemed that all my mind could focus on was the distaste I had for washing that kitchen floor.

Then one Saturday I found a radio program sponsored by Texaco called “Saturday Afternoon at the Opera.” Your first reaction is probably to think that this was not a likely program for a youngster to listen to each week! However, I don’t recall a single alternative that came in clearly on our radio. With my mind fascinated by the music-related questions the panel discussed during intermission, I found that those black splotches really did come off easily! Even the baseboard looked great when it was freshly washed. Of course, at the end of the cleaning I also treasured any comment my Dad would make about a job well done!

As I look back, I am thankful for the challenge of what looked insurmountable every Saturday. Not because I loved scrubbing the floor, but because the task was lightened by music that would help me develop a taste for good music and the battery-charging effect it can have.

“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing. Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.” (Psalm 100, KJV)

Maybe I need to have a keener realization that sometimes the things I appreciate the least are the ones that are teaching me the most. Do you have some of those too?

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I’d love for you to leave a comment for Lorraine today!

To read more from Lorraine Strohbehn, check out her “Lorraine’s Little Books” series, available via the links on the “Recommended Reading/Kindle Books” page.