Breastfeeding

I grew up on a farm and we had lots of cats.  They were good cats, that mostly fed themselves with hunting, not useless porch cats that get underfoot expecting you to feed them.  One day, a scrawny tomcat returned home, looking like he'd lost a fight.  I witnessed his mother greeting him on his return and she seemed happy to see him.

And over the next few days, she let him nurse her.

I was so impressed that his mother loved him that much.

I was kind of scared that my parents would kill me.  One of my earliest memories of Sunday school, in maybe first or second grade, was them telling us about Abraham and Isaac.  He was called Abram then and God told him to sacrifice Isaac to him.  So he gathers up Isaac and his sacrificing tools and goes off to do it.  His wife says "Where are you going with Isaac and those knives?"

"Oh, just for a walk."  He lied to his wife, because if he had told the truth, you can bet she'd have put a stop to it.

I remember we were told that Abraham loved God and this proved how much he loved Him.  I remember wondering "But what about loving your kids?"  I knew better that to speak up, because I was old enough to know what could get you slapped upside the head.

God didn't make Abram go through with it, provided a ram for the actual act and changed Abram's name to Abraham.  But Isaac got to live through being tied up and threatened with death.  A great religion was born.

I was not breastfed.  I guess it wasn't done in the 50's.