While aimlessly scrolling through the newly available images on the Smithsonian Open Source project, I found a set of cross stitch samplers from the 18th century. Jackpot. I've always loved seeing what kids of generations past were capable of — one of my prized possession is a construction paper flower my grandfather made in first grade that would sell by the thousands at Urban Outfitters today.
Don't get me wrong, it's great that our kids have protected childhood and I'm a huge proponent of free-play, but I'll always stop and look at an Industrial Revolution-era photo of a child factory worker or miner. Fascination with abomination, I guess.
This sampler from 1763 Massachusetts Bay Colony caught my eye:
The stitcher of this piece, Ms. Mary Batchelder, was 6-years old at the time of completion and her skills clearly developed over the course of her work. The quote, which was likely one of the final additions stopped* me right in my tracks, it reads:
Though God Does Spare, For Death Prepare
Can you imagine the call you'd get from your kid's school if they spouted off something that macabre? Or how would you feel if your kid brought home an art project with that written boldly in the center? Don't get me wrong, I fully support the sentiment but I can't see a 6-year old today casually tossing it around. We certainly live in a different world than the Colonial settlement Mary Batchelder inhabited.
In Mary's day, adults and children died from disease and accidents, from old age and young age. People died at home and their bodies were cared for at home. Death was a part of life and instead of hurrying through, people embraced the transition as a significant milestone. 18th century funeral ceremonies were elaborate affairs with large processions and mourning attire; far from trying to "get back to normal," it was customary to remain in mourning for an extended period.
Looking at Mary's loose and then neater stitches, thinking about the society she inhabited and the expectations she faced, I wonder what experiences she had by age six. What did this quote mean to her? How did she understand it? Had she lost a sibling or her mother during a childbirth as was so common? When 1 in 10 children didn’t make it to age 5, had she lost a playmate to contaminated water, rickets, smallpox or some other killer that is virtually nonexistent today?
My daughter, Lucy, is nearly five — not much younger than Mary Batchelder was when she started her sampler. Frankly, I can’t imagine a more miserable endeavor than getting my flighty, feisty kid to sit still long enough to complete something this detailed. Of course, she lives in a different time and we have different expectations of her and for her, but I still wonder how she’d be different if she were raised 250 years ago.
What would it be like if kids regularly saw death as a part of society, a custom and celebration and ceremony, not something to rush through in days or weeks before getting back to “normal” life? What if we never wondered whether a kid should come to a funeral because we kept the body in the parlor and friends stopped by to pay respects?
It's a good thing that death is not as prevalent as it was in Mary’s time, but it also means individual losses can have a bigger impact on our kids. When death isn’t part of daily life, it can come as a shock. That’s something Mary didn’t worry about.
Even if they’re not surrounded by death in our modern world, many kids gravitate toward the shadow aspects of life. Kids love spooky songs, minor key, dark themes. Here are some of the creepy and sad songs I love and loved as a kid. I hope you’ll leave a comment (below) with your addition to this list.
Oh, My Darling, Clementine, Traditional performed by The Sweptaways
”Ruby lips above the water
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine
But, alas, I was no swimmer
So I lost my Clementine.”
This song is VIVID and reminds me of the summer between 2nd and 3rd grade for no reason other than I was feeling particularly dramatic and morose, I guess.
Did you Feed My Cow?, performed by Ella Jenkins
“Did my cow get sick? (Yes, Ma-am)
Was she covered with tick? (Yes, Ma-am)
How did she die? (Uh, Uh, Uh)
Did the buzzards come? (Yes, Ma-am)
How did they come? (Flop, Flop, Flop)”
I have quit asking people if they remember this song from their preschool days because most people weren’t lucky enough to attend Patti’s Preschool and enjoy afternoon circle accompanied by a lap-harp. REQUEST: If you remember hearing this song as a kid, will you please, please say so in the comments below? I need to know I’m not the only one.
It’s Alright to Cry, from Free to Be You & Me performed by Rosy Grier (cover version: Lisa Loeb & Craig Robinson)
”It’s alright to cry,
Crying get’s the sad out of you”
One of the best songs on one of the best albums. Period.
Bonus info: I learned while researching this piece that Mr. Grier was a needlepoint hobbyist. What a lovely tie-in to Mary Batchelder’s cross stitch sampler. Kismet.
Danny Boy, Traditional performed by Johnny Cash & Cathy Maguire
”But if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "ave" there for me”
As a proud Irish-American, I would be remiss if I didn’t include Danny Boy which I’ve heard my entire life, so it’s always felt like a kids song. Some people loathe the Johnny Cash version, but I don’t so here it is. This mini-documentary offers some background on the song and I still can’t get through it without crying.
Irish Lullaby, performed by Bing Crosby
”Over in Killarney, many years ago
My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low
Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way
And I'd give the world if I could hear that song of hers today”
Bing is so over the top. Such a ham. He gets me every time.
I Know an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, performed by Pete Seeger
“I don’t why she swallowed a fly,
I guess she’ll die.”
Dark, man. Super dark. I loved it.
This is a long list, so I’m going to skip any book, movie or podcast recommendations this week. I would really love to hear your favorite sad, spooky or creepy songs from childhood. Leave them in the comments below.
*notice how I didn't say "dead in my tracks" there? that whole awareness thing I wrote about in Daily Life & Death #6 is totally working, you guys. Yessssss.
This weekly newsletter is about kids+loss, never too depressing and always free (because I love you). As always, thank you for reading. If you know someone who may be interested in this topic, I hope you’ll suggest that they subscribe. The more the merrier.