My father, Charles l. Graves

I wrote about my mom, here is a little about my dad. He was quite a gentle man but his hands were of iron, having worked on a Texas cotton farm much of his life We moved around, picking fruit–trying to exist then settled in Quartz Hill, Ca. —-I must have been 12 or 13 years old and required to earn my own spending money (Never money enough for an allowance). It was almond harvest time. An almon…d grower a mile or so from us had a nice crop of almonds. Being energetic, I went to him and made a deal to glean his field after harvest. We settled on 1/2 of what I gleaned belonged to me.
—–I am finally going to have a few dollars! Well I worked and I worked until I had a full gunny sack, filled to the very top.
The almond grower was excited so he went and got a bag to give me my share. He brought out a paper grocery store bag and filled to up. “Here is your share,” he stated. I replied, “But!–” And the almond grower gruffly send me on my way—-.
When I arrived home dad was waiting. I showed him the grocery bag of almonds and told him what happened. he didn’t say one word to me. (He was a man of few words.) He took the bag from me and went and got in his old pickup. It wasn’t long until dad returned. I went out to meet him.
“Here son, is your share.” he said as he showed me the gunny sack full of almonds, exactly as I had gleaned them. He never spoke of it again and to this day I have no idea what he said to the almond grower. I have thought of it a million times and it always brings tears to my eyes, that man, my gentle father, Charles L Graves!—olRoff

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