When I was a child, my mother had specific remedies when we were ill or suffered a childhood injury such as a spill from a bicycle. Like mothers of that era, she believed in that horrible, orange mercurochrome as the answer to scraped knees and other bleeding wounds. And the darn stuff stung like crazy when applied and kept your skin orange for days.

If you fell and hit your head or sprained a body part, immediately a bag of frozen peas or a ziplock bag filled with ice would magically appear. It would be applied full-strength to the affected area.

Stung by a bee? A concoction of baking soda and water was mixed together and slathered on the bite area. If we were lucky, Mom would have purchased a spray bottle of Bactine. At least this medication was cool and did not sting like others she tried.

There was a period of just days or maybe a week or two when two of my younger brothers sustained broken arms. I believed one was a fall from a tree and the other fell playing basketball. Those injuries were handled by the local emergency room, not by Mom. It’s safe to say that the hospital and doctors were well-acquainted with the Hamm family children.

We were lucky to have a medical doctor who lived in the neighborhood. When I sustained a small but deep cut on my forehead, Mom took me to Doc Ackerman’s house, and he stitched up my head in his kitchen.

As for family doctors, we had a couple of them over the years that still made house calls. After all, if several of my siblings were displaying signs of measles or mumps, the doctor didn’t want us coming to his office and infecting others. I will always remember those leather alligator style bags they carried.

If we were sick enough to stay home from school, we inevitably would hear the sound of the electric can opener. She would open cans of chicken noodle or chicken and star soups to help ease our cough or flu symptoms.

My favorite comfort food was tomato soup made with milk. I would add a generous amount of oyster crackers to the soup as well. I’m not sure why they are called oyster crackers, perhaps because they look like little puffs of oysters.

They tasted just like regular saltine crackers for those who never had them.

This past week has tried my soul. The tragic flooding that occurred just weeks ago in our own Ohio County and then to see the devastation and horrendous loss of life in Texas has been very hard to digest.

I found myself seeking comfort in what my mom had taught me.

I reached for a can of tomato soup and oyster crackers. I felt guilty while slowly sipping the soup.

When I had finished, I felt such despair when I realized that no amount of cans of soup or crackers can help all those who are suffering today. Comfort will have to come from a Higher Source.

Heather Ziegler can be reached via email at hziegler@theintelligencer.net.