White Lies

My Aunt La Verta was a kind-hearted woman. She seemed as tiny and fragile as a sparrow, but she was as strong as a horse, and worked hard every day of her life. That woman was always moving, endlessly chattering, and constantly finding lost souls to save. If you asked my Aunt La Verta for her last nickel, she would find a way to get you a dime!

She never had children of her own, but she fiercely loved her nieces and nephews. She spoiled us all rotten in any way she could. We learned to be very careful about admiring anything that Aunt La Verta had. If you said you liked something, she would give it to you. She had a heart of gold.

But, she didn’t have much “gold.” Money was always tight; so she often bought gifts for us at thrift shops and garage sales. Her favorite place to shop was The Goodwill Store. For my Aunt La Verta, The Goodwill Store was a treasure trove.

Unfortunately, since she had raised no children of her own, Aunt La Verta didn’t always understand the types of gifts a child might want. Sometimes her choices of gifts were rather strange. But, my parents told us we had to thank Aunt La Verta anyway, and nicely say, “That’s just what I wanted.”

I said, “But, Momma, that’s lying and you said not to lie!”

Momma told me, “Honey it’s a ‘white lie.’ That’s different. A little white lie now and then is alright if it spare somebody hurt feelings.” We told my aunt a lot of white lies.

The one I remember most vividly is this one. I remember it, because if backfired big time!

My family pulled into the driveway at my Grandmommy’s house. When the station wagon crunched to a halt in the gravel, we all got out and ran to the porch to greet Grandmommy and Aunt La Verta for hugs and kisses.

Aunt La Verta had a “Cheshire Cat” grin on her face as she put her arms around my shoulders. “Michele, I found something special just for you!”

She herded me into the living room and produced a brown paper sack. I opened the top, and out popped the most hideous dress I have ever seen in my life. It was a garish plaid (yellow, blue and orange) with a pinafore bib, pleated skirt, and ruffles everywhere! Aunt La Verta insisted I go into the bathroom and try it on. I looked at my Momma, and knew from her eyes that I had better do it. My little sister was trying, without great success, to stifle a giggling fit.

I trudged into the bathroom to put on that dress, and people, it was even worse than I thought. It was a couple of sizes too big, and the hem reached below my knees. This was the 1960s! A twelve year old girl wore miniskirts and bell bottom blue jeans. Y’all remember seeing the movie, “The Christmas Story?” Ralphie had to try on a pair of pajamas that was a rabbit suit. Trying on this dress was just as excruciating as Ralphie’s experience. If I had put on white face makeup and a big red nose, I could have run off to join a circus. I looked like a clown!

I heard my Aunt La Verta tapping on the bathroom door. Everyone was calling for me to come out to show them the new outfit. I had no choice. Choking back tears of embarrassment, I stood there in the middle of the living room, while my family murmured “oooh” and “aaah.” Most everybody had a straight face, but my little sister was battling hysteria. I thought she was going to bust a gut laughing. I did not see the humor in it.

Momma looked at me with a very stern look and said, “Michele, what do you say to Aunt La Verta?”

I knew what the heck I wanted to say, but I also knew I had better not. Instead, I said what I knew my Momma wanted to hear, “Thank you, Aunt La Verta, it’s just what I wanted.”

My little sister was convulsing with laughter, but she managed to squeak, “Oh, I wish I had a dress like that.” My Aunt La Verta beamed with pride.

Thankfully, I was allowed to change back into my own clothes so that we could go outside to play. That awful dress was put back into the bag and out in the car.

When we drove away from my Grandmommy’s house that afternoon, my parents were both laughing at my Aunt La Verta’s taste in clothing. My Daddy, bless his heart, drove straight to The Goodwill Donation Box and we stuffed the sack with that dress into it. I was certainly relieved. We didn’t think anything more about that dress—until two weeks later when we went back to visit Grandmommy.

As we got on the porch, my Aunt La Verta came bouncing out of the house. She was so excited she was almost squealing. She grabbed up my little sister in a bear hug, and said, “Oh, I have something for you that I know you are going to love!” From behind the couch, Aunt La Verta produced a brown paper bag (don’t get ahead of me now).

My little sister took that bag with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. Her smile froze on her face when she pulled out the exact same dress that Aunt La Verta had given me two weeks before! It had to be the same one; there couldn’t have been two dresses as ugly as that one in the whole universe! She had gone to The Goodwill Store and bought the same dress again!

My Aunt La Verta was glowing as she pronounced, “Now, y’all can dress like twins!”

Let me tell you, I took great enjoyment in watching my little sister try on that dress and model it for us. And we learned two important lessons that day:
1) Those little white lies can come back and bite you in the rear!
2) When we put something in The Goodwill Donation Box, we made sure that box was not in Oak Cliff!

Other posts you might enjoy:

1. The Three “Magic” Questions
2. Who Do You Want To Be?
3. What’s A Baseball Player Got To Do With It? Part I
4. Manic Monday. Beauty Is Only Skin Deep
5. Television IS A Teaching Tool

Tagged as: family, humor, Memories