"These days, I consider the happenings of yesteryear and it's as if I've climbed to the attic and begun sifting through relics, discolored and covered in dust. A few swipes of my hand clears that dust and I travel back to a much different realm. All seems genuine there, as if occurring in present time and not past and I am able to see, hear, touch, and taste the whole of it."So writes Sarah Fischer in 1939, when, as an elderly woman, she pens the story of her life. She tells of her beginnings, the youngest of eight siblings ...
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"These days, I consider the happenings of yesteryear and it's as if I've climbed to the attic and begun sifting through relics, discolored and covered in dust. A few swipes of my hand clears that dust and I travel back to a much different realm. All seems genuine there, as if occurring in present time and not past and I am able to see, hear, touch, and taste the whole of it."So writes Sarah Fischer in 1939, when, as an elderly woman, she pens the story of her life. She tells of her beginnings, the youngest of eight siblings born to Scotch-Irish immigrant parents, her childhood living in Philadelphia, and calling a tiny rowhouse home. As she grows to become a woman, she stands as a witness to history, detailing the Civil War, industrialization, and the wonders of new inventions. Throughout the decades, Sarah must also face her own adversities, the loss of family members, a troubled marriage, and financial hardships, while gaining strength from her faith and finding joy in simple things. As a grandmother might chat on a summer's evening, Sarah holds forth with her readers and offers the unassuming wisdom of her years.
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