Tune: HYMN TO JOY
Ever been to a "well house" or a "spring house"? One of the perks of growing up in the country is having experiences that just not everybody has enjoyed, and this may well be one of them for me.
My mother took us -- I should say dragged us -- annually to the place where she was born: a then unoccupied, tumble-down structure sitting amongst several acres of weeds. Each time we visited that plot of ground, the house was more tumbled-down than the previous year. I never liked walking through the weeds for fear of snakes and other east Tennessee varmits, but we trudged from the road toward the spot so dear to the childhood of Hedy Inez Smelcer Huff.
Although the house was dilapidated and was eventually razed, there still stood the well house. It was terribly small, built of some earthy substance kind of like adobe... my Dad called them mud bricks... with a wood shingled roof. This tiny structure was built over a spring -- an artesian well. That fresh-water source was so important to the families who had lived there originally that they covered it. I understand that it was always cool in there, so they sort of used it as a refrigerator, too.
On the outside of the well house there hung a tin dipper. After all those years, the dipper still hung there. And without thought of who may have used the dipper last, we always carried it inside and had a drink of the amazingly cold, fresh water. Perrier had nothing on this natural spring! And if you've never drunk from a tin dipper, you don't understand the sensation - the rush - when the cold tin hits your lips before the water does. I can still remember it as if it were yesterday although it was well over fifty years ago. That annual trek to the well house was one of the memorable joys of my growing up years.
Therefore, every time I sing this hymn-line, I'm reminded of the ice-cold tin dipper filled with water. And without thought of the unsanitary way we participated in the rich history of that long-flowing spring, I realize once again that God is truly like that spring: still there, still available, still refreshing those who drink of him. All I have to do is dip into the well and enjoy.
PS - When my grandmother Charity Smelcer died, the only one of her possessions I requested was the tin dipper that always rested on the counter by her kitchen sink -- used daily by her and all the rest of us in the family. Who needed a Dixie cup when you could drink from a common cup? It's pretty beat up, but it hangs by the door that leads to our garage, reminding me every morning of my roots... and the taste of cold well water.
Listen to This Hymn
Sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
Sung by Cynthia Clawson
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