When I asked my Mother what information she would like on her ProsePage, she answered... Tell them that I am a CHRISTIAN, that I am from Texas, that I am a good WIFE, MOTHER, GRANDMOTHER, and GREAT-GRANDMOTHER, and that GOD and MY FAMILY has always been the most important things in MY LIFE... and that should be enough. Proud to be HER SON - Chris
When I think of my Mama... I see an oak tree
Strong and solid with arms of shade
Reaching out to cover and protect the ones she loves
A rock... which is still and strong and always there
When you seek a resting place
Yet... there was forever a sweetness... and softness within her
Letting me know... I am loved
I rise slowly from my bed. Young as I am, my muscles still ache from the stretching and pulling cotton the day before.
The sun isn't up yet. It is somewhere between dark and light, seemingly at the same time. In the east, the colors rush up into the sky... soft orange, gold, yellows, rose, and bright blues... ahead of the rising sun.
As we wrap our cotton sacks around our shoulders and walk slowly to the fields, the cold comes through my clothes and sack, making me shiver.
Dew drops decorate the huge spider webs which cling to the cotton stalks and grass transforming them into magical, sparkling spirals of lace suspended in mid-air.
By now, my shoes, legs, and pants are wet up to my knees from the dampness. With each step I take, a fine dust colors my work shoes a reddish-brown. I've always loved the fresh, plowed ground. The clean and pure softness as it runs through my fingers.
The smell of it fills the air. An unexplainable smell. Yet, it is the freshest smell on earth.
Suddenly, the sun comes over the edge of the world making the dew covered fields and trees change into the brilliance of diamonds. As the warmth and brightness of the sun dries the dew, my Daddy slips on his work gloves and without hesitation, steps between two rows of cotton quickly kneeling like a warrior praying before battle.
Working two rows at the same time, his hands begin moving faster than my youthful eyes can follow. Like a snowy waterfall, the soft, white cotton cascades into the open mouth of his sack. Watching him... my heart swells with pride. A figure of consistant motion, each morning, it is my Daddy's endless determination that beckons me to work in the row next to him, whenever I can.
Carefully, I slip my sack across my own shoulder and follow him into another long day in the fields. I never worry about trying to keep up with him... for I know that if I work
hard and fast enough to just keep him in sight... then I have done well today.
Through the night... the storm rages. The sky is dark and the clouds are rolling. One storm would roar itself out, while another comes in to take its place.
All around the lightning is flashing and the rain is a drenching down pour. The wind blows with a fury. Taking her wrath out on everything her invisible fingers touch. As suddenly as they come... the storms go flying off into the distance.
Small tree branches are strewn about the yard. Leaves cover the ground. The damages are slight... Thank God.
Now the countryside is bright with different shades of green. Tree leaves are shining with droplets of falling water. The birds are happy. Flying around, playing in the puddles of water like tiny bathers. I wonder what they do when a storm is raging?
The wild flowers along the road are standing straight and proud. Bright yellow, black-eyed Susies, orange and red Indian Blankets, and sunny, yellow Sunflowers looking much like
smiling children with freshly washed faces.
In the distance, I hear hundreds of frogs singing. Their voices blend in a frog's happy song. I wonder... if they are singing praises for the rain.
I was awaken abruptly out of a deep sleep. Mama was saying, "You kids get up and get dressed. There's a bad cloud coming up!"
This seemed like the hundredth time I had heard Mama say that since I was born. We all stumbled out, still half asleep... me swearing that once I was grown up, I'd never go to another storm cellar in the middle of the night. Of course, this swearing was only to myself.
Mama, my brother, my three sisters, and myself had just gotten down the steps and inside the dirt cellar when outside it sounded like all hell had broken loose. We could hear rain and hail stones bouncing off of the closed door. Wind blowing like fury.
Tied to the inside of the cellar door was a rope. My brother and Mama grabbed the rope and held onto it tightly for often strong wind would suck the door open. We were all huddled together... scared to death. It sounded really bad outside.
Just then the wind gave a
big jerk on the door. Brother and Mama pulled hard to keep it closed. The wind tugged again. Jerk... pull... jerk... pull. They held on with all of their strength.
All of a sudden... we heard Daddy's angry voice, "Open this door! I'm almost drowned! And the hail is beating me to death! And... I smashed my fingers!"
As my brother and Mama released the rope, Daddy hurried inside, all wet and sheepish looking. And although we wanted to so badly... we didn't dare laugh... or even speak.
It's a joy to go walking with my four year old grandson in the morning. His questions help me to see things again. Things which grownups no longer take the time to see. The beauty of God's handywork all around us.
I'd forgotten how a child looks upon everything with amazement. The miracle... is seeing things through his eyes. Like a tiny insect inching its way up a blade of grass. Watching his delight at a beautiful butterfly. His joy at finding a pretty colored rock. To him, these things are great treasures. The colors and designs of the wild flowers. A fluffy little rabbit with large round eyes hopping by. The slow turtle crawling across our path.
Through my grandson... God allows me to see these miracles once again.
She tilts her head to the side... looking so much like a curious little bird. Gives you this sweet smile while reaching out for something she wants... and in most cases should not have. Saying "thank you" with the sweet innocence of an angel.
She has the assurance that there's nothing she can't do if she tries. The determination of a steam roller... qualities I hope she never loses.
Yet... she is the picture of femininity. Curly, brown ringlets settle softly about her face. Bright, blue eyes fringed with dark, long lashes. A mouth like cupid's bow... and the color of rose buds. And when she laughs, her face is a-glow and your world lights up at the sight.
She's two years old... she's my granddaughter... she's MY MAGGIE!
It was springtime in Texas again. The meadow was covered with sweet grass and wild flowers. Small animals played in the open fields. If you listened closely, you could hear the gurgling of a little creek. The clear water rushing around the rocks and small sand bars. Tiny fish making streaks of color as they flash through the water.
All around the meadow grew trees... large trees, medium-sized trees, and even small trees. From the largest tree to the smaller ones, they were all covered with leaves. Leaves of many different shades of green.
In the top of one of the young trees grew Lacey. Lacey was a bright green leaf, who in early springtime had come into being. Growing high in the top of Mother Tree, Lacey could see in all directions for miles and miles. She loved being up high. Here she felt the warm sunshine against her skin.
When the summer rains came, she loved the raindrops
too. Lacey and all of the other leaves would turn and twist in the rain, playing until their faces were clean and shiny.
Best of all, Lacey loved it when the friendly little breezes blew by. They would whisper to her of distant places they had seen. Of beautiful sights and things they had discovered. Places Lacey could only dream of. It was at those times, Lacey wished her stem was not fastened to Mother Tree. The little leaf longed to be free and fly away with the little breezes.
Spring and summer passed by very slowly. Lacey passed her time playing with the birds and by making rustling noises to scare away the squirrels as they gathered nuts. Soon autumn would come. At least that's what the birds had told her. That soon most of the birds would fly south for the winter. Lacey didn't really believe the birds because they were always teasing her.
Then one day, Lacey noticed a change in herself. No longer was her skin bright green. She was slowly changing into a beautiful yellow. Looking
around, she saw that the other leaves were also changing colors. Some were red... some were golden... some even orange and brown... and some as yellow as she. Lacey didn't know what was happening, but she felt no different.
Then her little, bird friends flew away... one by one. And the wild flowers started to just disappear. The sky turned gray and cold, and when Lacey awoke the next morning, she shivered alittle.
Suddenly, the cold Big Wind begin to blow hard. Big Wind's blowing shook Mother Tree harder and harder. Leaves all around Lacey were turning loose and flying in every direction. It was very exciting when her own little stem let go! Lacey found herself rushing through the cold air.
Big Wind carried Lacey farther and farther from Mother Tree, but she wasn't afraid because this was what Lacey had dreamed of. She flew high... and then low... and around and around just like a roller coaster! She saw new fields and even a river... she flew over a big, red barn... she flew over
cows eating hay... she flew farther and farther away. Next Big Wind spun her around a high church steeple, and then let go of her. She slid down the steep roof of the church and just as she went off of the edge, Big Wind once more picked her up and tossed her high into the air again.
From here, Lacey could see a small town and as she got closer, she noticed some people out on the back porch of their house playing music and singing. In the back yard, she saw children swinging in a rope swing tied to the branch of an old, Mulberry tree. Some other children were running and trying to catch the flying leaves.
"Oh, I hope they don't catch me!" thought Lacey. As she floated... slowly back and forth... and back and forth... she got closer and closer to the ground. Just as one of the children was reaching up, Big Wind grabbed her first and tossed her high into the air once more and away she flew again!
But just as quickly, Big Wind disappeared, leaving her floating slowly... all the way... to the
... ground! Lacey lay very still. It was so different here on the ground. She asked the other leaves what was going on, but they didn't know either.
During the night, it started to snow. As large snow flakes floated down, Lacey could not sleep though she was very tired from the day's adventure. She had so many unanswered questions. A wise, old snowflake settled down next to her, startling her when he brushed against her. Seeing her concern, he spoke to Lacey telling her that he had come and gone through many seasons and that there was nothing to worry about.
"Nothing to be scared of, little leaf" said the old snowflake. "Changing seasons have been going on since the beginning of time... everything renews itself. Nothing to fear in change."
The wise, old snowflake also told Lacey that she and her leaf friends would soon fall asleep safe and warm beneath a white blanket of snow.
"Then what happens?" Lacey wanted to know.
"Something wonderful!" answered the old snowflake.
"It happens to all of us... to everything... to you... we change! When you wake up, you will find yourself once more in the arms of Mother Tree... bright and green as ever!"
This made Lacey feel very happy inside, but suddenly she thought about her new friend, the wise, old snowflake. "What happens to you, old snowflake?" she asks, looking rather troubled.
"Now don't you worry about me" he grinned. "I have done this many times. Remember the raindrops you loved to play with so much during the spring, well, I'll come back as a raindrop. Remember what fun we had? Then we can play together again."
"Oh, yes!" said Lacey. Finally content, she breathed a sigh of relief and settled back. "I'll see you in the spring". And with that Lacey closed her eyes.
Wise, old snowflake smiled and waved to his friends floating slowly down to glide over this way and cover up the little sleeping leaf named Lacey with a white blanket of snow until next springtime in Texas.
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