Donna's Journal Winfield, Kansas,
January 21, 2004
Paper White bulbs I had been
forcing to bloom. My Aunt was in the Winfield, Kansas hospital and they
would be so enjoyable for her. The buds were so ready to pop open but did
not make it by the time we were ready to go. Didn't stop us, we took them
anyway. It was my thinking Auntie certainly loved to watch growing things.
She was alone except for a daughter who visited daily.
Mother went with me and as
usual it was her pleasure to do so. Straight long Oklahoma and Kansas roads
make the trip easy and relatively made in a short time of about an hour. We
drove through Newkirk, past the Chilocco arch, through Arkansas City and
easily followed even better Kansas roads into Winfield. Years have past
since I've been in that town. Isn't it strange how age causes us to see
things with a different eye. This time I noticed a very wide street. There
was plenty of room for four lanes plus very much extra space for angled
“Some of these former fathers
of the city sure had some kind of long range thinking to build these
streets like this. Can you imagine how awfully wide they were when only
horse and buggies used them” I mentioned to Mother.
“They did have more thoughts
for the future than most.” Mother had lived through the years and knew of
many small towns in Oklahoma with just a track through them. Later the
highway was only a two-lane road.
As we turned off the main
street to go toward the hospital, the width of this residential street was
very narrow. Houses were relatively close to the curb. They all looked to be
of very antique structures. However, when we arrived at the hospital that
building was new and impressive. A circle allowed me to drive directly up
to the door so Mother wouldn't have to walk from the parking lot.
My mind was going back to
when I went to school in Kansas. The German blood of the people was
strong. This was evident in their fair skin. Completely blond hair also
was a common sight. They had a healthy, clean look about them.
The walls of the hospital was
decorated with the hand crafts of the local residents and they were
beautiful. Intricate crochet doilies were framed behind glass. Large quilted
wall hangings were fastened to decorative rods. There was one enclosed
window display with various hand made craft articles for sale. It was all a
feast of another time and a different era. Something about it gave the
classy modern building a unique air, like stepping back into another
If that feeling was upon us
it soon disappeared when we entered my aunt's room. Her surgery was on her
knee for torn ligaments. There was a small machine hooked up to her leg and
it was continually moving the leg in a bicycle riding motion. The apparatus
was too modern and innovative for us to remain in that other world of
I took time off I didn't have
to go but I'll never forget the look of joy and appreciation on my elderly
aunt's face as we walked in the door with our pot of Paper Whites about to
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