Mother of Margaret

By Lucille Logan

The little girl who often stomped her foot and said, "I decided!" has made a lot of decisions to accomplish so much – she is founder and executive director of European Adoption Consultants, Inc. (EAC), an agency that has completed over 7,000 adoptions from all fifty states in the United States. She has remodeled a big, old building in Strongsville, Ohio, into a wonderful, modern facility. Baldwin Wallace University gave her a humanitarian award for her work in foreign adoptions from several different countries; Project Sunshine (a humanitarian aid for orphans in the countries where EAC facilitates adoptions) and Alex's Angels (an adoption program for older children). She cares for a large home and family. Best of all, in spite of logging miles to many countries and meeting foreign dignitaries, she always takes time to be good to me, her mother.

I hate windy days. I lost my little girl, Margaret (she was "Peggy" at that time) on a blustery day; the whole neighborhood was looking for a not-quite-two curly haired blonde wearing only pajama bottoms and bedroom slippers. We looked in the hay mow...in the milk vats...behind the chicken house...and down by the pond. No Peggy. Finally, the man on the feed grinder found her way down the lane – still heading west. Her explanation? "Peggy go get the cows."

This happy busy little girl was a delight, but she was simply not to be contained. When she was still in her bassinet, she liked to rock on her hands and knees – in fact (like Goldilocks) she rocked it all to pieces, and I had to buy a new one for her baby brother. When we finally got a pretty crib for her, she was over the top when other babies were barely peeking through the bars. When she was barely two, we made a snow fence play yard for our little wanderer. Wrong! Over the top the first day.

A sound I will never forget is the scrape of a chair across the kitchen floor to the cooking area. "Peggy help Mama cook!" In no time at all she was doing dishes like a pro.

I was so delighted to have a little girl. I grew up as a depression child. I had loving parents and all I wanted to eat, but we had few toys. Most of all, I wanted a doll. When my little girl was born, I thought that finally – although belatedly – I would have the fun of playing with pretty dolls and doll clothes. Wrong! She wanted red barn boots and a farm set with a red barn and cows and tractors.

Speaking of tractors, Peggy and her little brother, Skip, loved to ride around the farm with their Daddy. Whenever they heard the tractor, they were THERE for a ride. One day Dad, Charlie, drove the tractor to the back pasture to bring a fresh cow and newborn calf to the barn. Suddenly the animals took off toward the barn. Charlie called back to the children, "Turn the tractor off!" They thought he said, "Bring the tractor up!" When he was securing the animals in their stall, Dad was shocked to hear the "Putt…Putt" of the Farmall – and see his two little children proudly pulling in to the barnyard. Peggy was tall enough to steer and Skippy knew how to push the gas pedals to make it go. And they knew how to make it stop in front of a very surprised father.

Peggy and Skippy soon has a little sister, Patsy. Finally I would have a little girl to play with dolls and dress-up? Wrong. All of them loved the cats and dog and calves. They were forever grooming them and leading them around. On day, Daddy was tired from making hay and came in the house for a nap. I heard a noise at the door and said to the children, "Daddy's asleep. Tiptoe!" Patsy’s little voice answered, "Annie CAN'T tiptoe." She had led her calf in the house to see Grandma who was practically bedridden.

Speaking of Grandma, Margaret was so kind to the elderly lady who was deaf, almost blind from diabetes, had heart attacks and a stroke, was crippled with arthritis – and yet she was very smart – much like Helen Keller. Margaret spent a lot of time with her, helping her dress, washing her hair and cutting her toe nails. She worked out a communication system with her using their own physical sign language…most precious of all was her writing two or three inch letters with a black crayon, "Grandma, do you want some soup?"

What did children do before they had TV and videos? My children spent hours and hours reading books, doing puzzles, playing games and playing school. Margaret/Peggy would push the dining room chairs in a row for desks and find stools or little chairs to complete the classroom. (The cousins, Scotty and Timmy, complained, "Peggy MADE us play school!") This was before the age of a variety of purchased workbooks; the children made their own.

Parents are sad when their one and only start to school the first day. I was saddened to see my "little general" march down the driveway to the yellow bus that first day. When she returned, Patsy and Skip ran to the door to meet her. Skip soon went "out farming", but Patsy wanted to know what had happened in school. Eac day when Peggy got home she would teach her little sister what she did that day. By the end of the year, three year old Patsy could read and do most of the first grade work. School was not very challenging. Margaret/Peggy remembers the day in second grade when the lesson was something she didn’t already know. She was sitting in her seat at the back of the room on a winter day and watching a tiny snowdrift of snow blow in the back door of the old building; the teacher had a math lesson about "borrowing". Neat! Something new! Until then, she had thought that school was just to review things she already knew.

Life on the farm was busy, putting it mildly. My husband was a college graduate in agriculture. We had good cows and good crops, but the family still did a lot of work with a pitchfork and shovel. In retrospect, we all worked too hard with few vacations and time off. Victor says the only thing he regrets is that he never learned to swim. One mile from a lake...but we were too busy farming for swimming lessons.

Charles was a workaholic, and Margaret tagged right along behind him. She was the crew chief – Skip can milk the cows...Pat can rake hay...Ken can bale hay…Victor can feed the heifers at Willie's...Bob can mow the lawn...Kelly can feed the calves...Dad was the general synchronizing his troops, and loving every minute of it. We had to get our hay made first, corn planted in time and the north forty plowed before it rained.

4-H Club was the kid's summer recreation. Calves, Bambi, Annie and Baby, were tame as kittens and part of the family. Margaret and Pat loved grooming the animals and showing them at the fair. They won many prizes...best in class...showmanship...and Margaret a trip to the national for dairy judging. When I was asked to write a parent's recommendation for a 4-H scholarship, I wrote of waking up on summer morning at 4 o'clock and hearing the old Mercury head out the north drive. Margaret was driving the big old car loaded with her two brothers and a sister, feed and halters for eight animals, food for the family, beautiful white show clothes for all (I had made the girls dresses) and also the same for two neighbor kids! On the dining room table was a neat checklist of everything needed for the day.

The year Margaret was given the honor of dairy princess, the parade in front of the grandstand was delayed by the princess. It was a miserably hot day; a young club member's cow had a calf and the animals needed care. Margaret took care of the animals before donning her formal and leading the parade...waving at the crowd from the back of a convertible.

I did take my little girls for piano lessons every Saturday. I think they enjoyed the clean-up and go-to-town time more than the actual lessons. When under stress, Margaret still hums a refrain of her recital piece, "Beautiful Dreamer". After we discontinued the lessons, I asked my son, Victor, "Did you want to take piano lessons?" He exclaimed, "Yes!" and breezed through the John Thompson books very quickly; he is now a professional musician with many pianos and harps.

We went to church and Sunday School every Sunday. (Grandma's orders) Sometimes I would suggest to my husband that we take a day off...relax at the beach...take the children to an amusement park. No. We were always dressed in our Sunday best...pretty dresses for the girls (I made them) and slacks, white shirts and ties for the boys. They were the best dressed kids in Sunday School. This was before wash and wear; I had an old stomper washer and a 200 foot clothes line. I worked all week getting their clothes ready for the next week. We always had Sunday dinner with a white linen tablecloth (more laundry) and the best dishes. I envy the kids and mamas in their more relaxed dress code today. Were those five year Sunday School pins worth it?

A neighbor said he never knew to college graduates to be so frugal. Being a depression child, I knew how to "scratch cook", recycle leftovers, make the children's clothes, and freeze and can food. (I didn't go as far as my mother-in-law who would dry and reuse coffee grounds. The coffee was awful!) As a nutrition teacher, my children were given no junk food or sodas and very little candy. An exception was the after-holiday half-price (or less) candy. I had tricked the children into thinking that Christmas candy is what you get after Christmas…Valentine candy is what you get after Valentine's Day. One year, I got a bonanza of beautiful chocolate and marshmallow Easter eggs for next to nothing. I divided the treats among the children. Skip and Kenny wolfed theirs down…Patsy and Vic stowed theirs away...and Margaret? I was surprised to find her school jacket stuffed with half dollars, quarters and dimes. She had taken hers to school and sold them to kids on the bus.

It was difficult for our children to participate in after-school activities. Besides the farm work, our farm was the farthest from the school – it was difficult to swap rides with other parents – no one went by. The older boys were athletic, but couldn't spend hours and hours practicing. I did make an effort to let Kenny play basketball in the 8th grade. I was teaching kindergarten at the time, but did drive 200 miles a week to pick him up after school. Let's see – 200 miles... times seven children...times many years…

The children were active and developed strong muscles. In high school, Margaret's gym class had a contest to see which student could do the most sit-ups. Margaret and her farmer friend, Sue Ann, started the activity with the rest...sit up...lay down...sit up...lay down. One by one the rest of the class quit. Margaret and Sue Ann did sit-ups with ease the whole period...they said they could have done them the rest of the day...

Margaret and Sue Ann were competitors in a spelling bee. Note Margaret's spelling list – 286 perfect words. However, I have felt guilty the rest of my life because she didn't win the silver dollar. The two of them were the only ones left in the spell-down on Friday…they would have to continue on Monday. I knew we should be practicing her words, but I needed to clean house and Margaret spent the weekend helping me scrub and clean. Sue Ann won the contest.

Margaret was an organized person in a hectic household. Always a good student, every Friday night she sat at the dining room table and did her homework, "So I can enjoy my weekend". The other children hustled on Sunday night to finish theirs. One Christmas Vacation, when she was in 6th grade, Margaret bought a special notebook and did all the math problems for the rest of the year. Every day she just had to tear out the right page.

We did manage an occasional one act play contest. As a freshman, Margaret had a bit part. I don't remember the name of the play or much about it, except that Margaret had the part of a young girl. I had made her a black dress with a sweetheart neckline...her golden hair was soft and lovely…there was a hush of the audience as the spotlight shone on a lovely, lonely girl sitting in the darkened stage. For the first time, I realized she wasn't a little girl anymore. Her play won the prize.

My sister, Alice, had a little restaurant named "Times Square" in Kinsman, Ohio. Auntie loved children and was especially fond of Margaret. For her first birthday, she gave her a pretty little rag doll that played the "Happy Birthday" song. The baby named the doll "Happy Day" and took her everywhere with her. At night the last thing she would do was crank the doll over and over till she fell asleep.

The day Margaret/Peggy turned fourteen, Aunt Alice called to tell her, "Happy Birthday – and now you can come and work for me." So the busiest girl in the world...straight A student...milking cows...helping mom with housework...practicing her bass clarinet in the band…4-H meetings…took on another task. She wore her white 4-H show dresses as uniforms with a pert little apron. Hourly wages were only 35 cents, but that pretty, busy girl got lots of tips, which she proudly counted at the end of each stint.

Fast forward a few years – Margaret has a family and is living in North Royalton, Ohio with her children, Charlie, Trish and Karen. She happened to be in the right place at the right time and purchased an unfinished house at an auction. A beautiful house – she lives there today. The wood/tile kitchen floor that Mom and Dad laid, on their hands and knees, is there today. Margaret got a complete kitchen at the home and flower show – the vendor was tearing down his display and practically gave it to her. She purchased rolls of carpet from Georgia and carpeted the whole house. Furniture? A favorite buffet (which is in her dining room today) was spotted out by the road on garbage day. Margaret and her brother, Bob, carried it in the house just as the trash truck arrived. It was perfect. Beds…tables…chairs…many were flea market finds, refinished by Mom and are still in the house today.

The lawn was bare. Margaret wanted a screen of trees by the road. She had a cup of coffee at a local drive-in with a road crew with loads of dirt they wanted to empty. They were happy to dump their diggings to make the mounds she wanted – free. When I saw the mounds, I asked her who she could contract to smooth them to make a nice level lawn. She answered, "I LIKE them – I'm going to plant pine trees on them." (I like a nice, smooth lawn and I don’t like pine trees, but I understood her plan – sort of a privacy hedge.)

Now for the trees. She and her son, Charlie, cruised the garden shops looking for bargains. At the end of the day they saw a K-Mart worker putting up a CLEARANCE sign – EVERGREEN SHRUBS -- $2. They bought them all and stuffed them into her little blue Omni. She and Charlie planted them.

The next concern was mulch. The cost seemed prohibitive, considering the many bags needed. Ingenious as usual, she cruised the neighborhood until she found someone with a mountain of wood chips from cut down trees. She could have it – free. The only expense was garbage bags and gas money from here to there. It was a hot day, but they doggedly stuffed the bags and hauled loads back and forth – back and forth – until the mounds were nicely covered. They were tired but happy; their only problem was that there was poison ivy in the wood.

Margaret had many interesting jobs – secretary – substitute teacher – loading UPS trucks (which paid more than teaching). The first day on the UPS job, she was unaware that she was being videotaped for a time and motion study. It was cold in the truck, so she quickly and deftly stacked the boxes in place – actually it was easier than lifting bales of hay. Her supervisors were amazed that she had set a new record for packing a truck.

About seventeen years ago I got a memorable phone call. I had my briefcase in hand and was going out the door to my job of teaching kindergarten (30 years!). Margaret sounded distressed. Her little girl, Lucy, was one year old and she was expecting another one in a month. "Mom, I'm in trouble. I've got to go to the hospital or be on complete bed rest at home." I called the school and told them "Good-bye" and spent the next six weeks with her family.

A beautiful baby, named Alicia Lucile was born March 27, 1990. She was perfect. Margaret was so happy with her little girls, when the worst tragedy in the world happened – little Alicia went to sleep in her little crib and never work up. (SIDS) None of us will ever be the same.

Two little girls. Lucy must have a sister. When Margaret decided to adopt a little girl, unbelievable torture happened to the grieving woman who had lost her child; agencies took her money and disappeared ($5,000 up front – and no refund)…a picture of her new "daughter" on her refrigerator was also on the refrigerator of a dozen other people...a lawyer arranged to have a home study for only $1,000 (there is no cost – just one simple phone call)...next, a long trip overseas to bring home a little girl named Anna, and then home without a baby...a second mortgage on her house and a loss of $30,000 yielded nothing but heartbreak. What should have put a grief stricken mother "over the edge" was really the birth of European Adoption Consultants, Inc.

One day my daughter marched into my house and announced, "I'm starting an adoption agency." Being used to her many of ventures over the years, I answered, "Yes, dear. Or perhaps a Christmas tree farm or a car wash?" She knew nothing about adoption agencies – except the wrong things that had happened to her. "I'm going to start an adoption agency and I'm going to do it right!"

Margaret's original goal was to process 30 adoptions for others and one or two for herself. After she adopted her two beautiful children, Timmy and Lindsay, she decided (there's that word again!) that now that she had experienced and learned much about international adoptions, she could help others and avoid the pitfalls that had caused her so much grief. Margaret Cole decided to start an adoption agency; like the last line in the story of "The Little Red Hen" – AND SHE DID!