Who You Callin' Old?

When you think of senior citizens, do you see little old ladies, with their knitting in hand, rocking in a wooden rocking chair, with a cushion on which to rest their aged behinds?  Maybe the vision has the little ladies with white hair and neat and tidy buns at the nape of their necks. Can you just see theses ladies knitting little caps for their grandchildren?  Well if this is what you think we ladies do, think again...

Carol and I have just started getting our social security checks.  Which, by the way, we earned from all the years devoted to working for a living.  We still don't feel any older than we did when we were in our twenties.  Experience has taught us well and neither of us would go back to being twenty again.  We love this stage of our lives, and God has blessed us with so much love.

Cousin Carol and I, along with our cousins, grew up "acting."  All of my cousins at one time or another love to dress-up and entertain. (Uncle Clyde was offered a job with Gene Autry, the Singing Cowboy, back in the day.)   Carol still sings in church, and I often think back on the gifted entertainers we have had in our family, and still do.  I stand amazed at the talent.  Uncles and cousins who play guitar and/or piano, nephews who play violin, and so many of them sing.  Our family could start a choir and have their own band.  We love music. 

Carol and I like the idea of making others laugh and use silly clothes and hats, one must not forget the hats for our ensemble.  Necessity was instrumental to the involvement of our granddaughters in our debut  We were babysitting two of our granddaughters and well, we dressed them like a "mini-me" and added them to our skits.  They loved it, and another generation of fun-loving cousins was born.





It is the child in Carol and me who enjoys the pretending, singing, and just plain fun of what we do.  Sometimes, because we have so much fun with our shows, we go over the time limits.  Of course it may because both of us are "Smiths" and we love to talk.  The one subject we never tire of talking about is God's love for us.  Our mission is to illustrate the love of our Lord by our enthusiasm for the gift of eternal life.

 




Back Row: Cee Cee, Kathy, LaVerne
Front Row: Kaitlin, Joely, Gracie, Julia


Our cast of characters has grown with my friend Kathy, and we have included more of our granddaughters.  They love the results, but not the practice.  We have found that as long as they are having fun with our skits and songs, they enjoy the audience.  Little Julia is our youngest actress at age 5 years old and can be a comedian in her own right.  She sits in a miniature chair behind us and makes little comments.  They are her personal observations which can be quite entertaining for us during our performance. It is probably a good thing the audience doesn't hear her commentary.






Madison, Gracie, and LaVerne LaDoo




Back R: Hayley, Cee Cee, Leanne; Front R: Kaitlin, Joely Cousins

 

Carol's three granddaughters sing and her granddaughter, Joely, sings and has learned to sign many of our songs.  My granddaughter, Madison, signs in American Sign Language and sings as well, and granddaughter, Gracie, sings too.  Our little group loves to sing the old hymns as well as some of the newer songs. We want our granddaughters to continue their love for entertainment, but most of all, we want them to become happy Christians.

God has blessed these two "senior citizens" with a joy for living.  Carol and I want to continue to grow in our Christianity with young and happy hearts.  One must never get to old to enjoy talking about the love of God.








It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the precious opportunity to work with our grandchildren for Your glory.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Always be open to the joys of life.  Never forget what it was like to be a child and never forget what it is like to be a child of God.

Snippets

As we journey through life, we expect major events to effect our lives.  They do, but the most valuable changes sometimes come through smaller and what some would call insignificant snippets.

During my journey through the decades, I have been blessed with many valuable snippets of life,  As I grow older, I realize the importance of these snippets and how I was given the opportunity to use those minute events to grow physically, mentally, and spiritually.

My friend Kathy finds it a miracle my cousins and I survived our childhood.  We were a group of lucky children who spent a lot of time together or as much time as work schedules would allow our parents to get together for summer vacations, weekend overnights, or just a meal.

When I think back to our childhood, I see a diverse group of children.  We were male and female, all ages, all sizes, but we had one common bond.  We all loved each other.  We went to church together, sung together, and of course, pushed the limits together.  It is that pushing-the-limits attitude that got us in trouble; however, our parents did not kill us. I guess they felt we were going to end up doing that ourselves.

God uses these times to teach us life lessons.  We had Christian parents; Parents who allowed us to make reasonable mistakes; Parents who allowed us to have fun times; Parents who loved us; Parents who were concerned about our souls and eternal life.  Parents who reminded us to pray.

The stories in "Georgia Wisdom" are true.  The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.  There were no innocent members of our group.  We were in our adventures together and whoever happened to be there at the time was involved.  No one stood back and let the others take the blame.  There was safety in numbers.

My cousins and I learned tolerance, cooperation, acceptance, and how to love each other.  When Susie and I fell prey to Tommy's creativity with his contraptions, we didn't get angry; we accepted the responsibility for our lapse into insanity as we volunteered to "try-it-out."  God expects us to take responsibility for our actions.

When I think about the times five girls slept on a double bed, I can't help but chuckle. We entertained ourselves by doing skits.  A friend of mine was spending the weekend with me and my cousins, Carol, Susie, and Nancy came too.  We had a slumber party and giggled most of the night.  My cousins accepted my friend as if she were a cousin too.  In our house when you ate at our table, you became a member of our family.  This was the attitude of my dad and mom and Uncle Hollis and Aunt Julia had about the many folks who entered our lives. This is an example of the unconditional acceptance Christ has for us. 

Early in my childhood I knew God loved me so much that He sent His only son to save me from my sins.  It wasn't until I was between eleven and twelve years old that I walked the isle of a small church in Baldwin, Georgia, where my Aunt Opal was conducting a revival, and openly accepted His love. I have always talked to God and I know He has always listened.

The snippets of those events in our lives could be easily overlooked, but they are too important to remain hidden in our memories.  It is the snippets that define who we are.  It is in these snippets we learned how to expand our creativity,  how to love one another, how to deal with our own children, how to forgive, and how to appreciate God's plans for us.  God used our parents' responses to our wild adventures and many mistakes to teach us many of these lessons.  One must always be vigilant to God's will. God uses every situation as lessons, but it is up to the individual person to learn from those lessons. 

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the blessings of cousins and the life lessons You gave us in which to grow physically, mentally, and spiritually.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Be open and listen to God.   He uses even the smallest details in our lives to teach us how to obey Him.  Watch for and learn to be thankful for blessings no matter how small. Remember God's commandment to love one another.

My Adventure Buddy

Caught somewhere between a child and an adult is Madison.  Her vocabulary lends itself to an adult and she can easily carry on conversations.  Madi, as we call her, is only eleven years old.  She is an avid reader and loves books.  She would rather read, I think, than watch a movie; however, she and I have enjoyed watching some really cute movies together.  Madi has a wonderful sense of humor and I have been blessed to see this sense of humor, which I enjoyed, on our trip to the movies.  We called it our "movie date."  She insisted on paying my way.

Madi loves animals of all kinds too, especially horses.  She has taken riding lessons, and has made a connection with Leo, the horse from next door.  When she comes to our house for a visit, she spends a lot of time with Leo.  Leo will come to the fence and enjoy Madi's petting and peppermints.  After she leaves to go back home, Leo still comes to the fence and waits for her.  It is kind of sad to watch him stand and wait for her.  Sometimes we go down and talk to him and pet him, but it is not the same as having Madi there.

Madi loves my stories.  At one time making them up was easy, but now she is reading the Harry Potter books, and I haven't read those.  It was so much easier when it was Peter Pan.  Our Peter Pan adventures took Madison over the town and around the moon on her adventures against the evil Hook.  She replaced Wendy in our Peter Pan stories and had great adventures with Tinker Bell and fairy dust. In other stories, Madi became a great detective solving mysteries with her note pad and trench coat.  That little girl's love for her Nanny's stories is heartwarming.  Madison makes me feel special.

Madison still has the love for adventures.  We have shared treasure hunts with maps; wild stories; and special vacation days of miniature golf and picnic lunches.  Her love for science found us touring Tallulah Falls and the Atlanta Zoo.  She enjoys helicopter rides with Papa and visits to Dollywood. We turn all of our trips into adventures. 

As we travel together with Papa, we play the mile post game, and I call her "Eagle Eye" for her ability to spot the mile posts before I do.  She always wins the game.  She says, "They don't call me ole Eagle Eye for nothing." 

Madison is overflowing with creativity.  She loves art camp with Ms. Jan and has some nice drawings and watercolor pictures which her parents have framed and hung for all to see.  Madison has a lot of talent.  I don't think Madi realizes the potential she has for creating her own stories nor does she realize her artist talent.  Hopefully, her love for reading, writing, and art will continue to develop as she grows older.  Her papa and I are very proud of her.

Time moves so quickly that before we can say "teenager," Madi will be one.  Oh Time, please be kind and allow us to spend you with our family.

It is me again, Lord, thanking You for the blessings of wonderful grandchildren.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Take time with your children and grandchildren, or you will miss an adventure and the opportunity to revisit your childhood.

God Uses Cucumbers Sandwiches

God uses people when they least expect it.  A trip to the grocery store and the purchase of cucumbers and cream cheese became a mission field.  One never knows when God will speak to you or even how He will speak to you.  I certainly didn't realize that my decision to buy cucumbers and cream cheese was a message sent by God.

My best friend, Kathy, has been planning for weeks for Tres Dias, an interdenominational Christian weekend.  Kathy is working in the dorms for an all ladies weekend.  She has been purchasing different crosses and other items to be used as focal points on her assigned table.  She and I have enjoyed shopping for the various items; so indirectly, I have been involved with her mission work.

Last night on the phone we planned to meet for breakfast.  She told me she was trying to determine how to go to her job and make cucumber sandwiches in time for a meeting after school. When the list of food items had made its way around the room only the cucumber sandwiches were left on the list.  How could she keep them fresh and not soggy?  She would not be able to make them the day of the meeting because of time restrictions, so I volunteered to make them for her.  "I can't ask you to do this!" She exclaimed.

"You didn't ask me, Kathy, I am volunteering.  Let me do this for you." You see, Kathy, has been a God send to me on many occasions.  She is truly a best friend in every way.   The least I can do for her is make a few sandwiches.

"Kathy, I have cucumbers and cream cheese at home to make them, and I am the only one at home who likes cucumbers. For the life of me, I don't know why I had bought so many cucumbers and and cream cheese.  Prehaps it was because I thought I was going to use them in my salad, but I didn't.  I still have the cucumbers."

This morning Kathy and I enjoyed breakfast together. I learned God was using me to help Kathy.  Isn't He an Awesome God? 

Kathy had been praying for God to show her a way to make this work for her.  She wanted this Tres Dias to have a wonderful start, and her plans for this to go smoothly was falling apart. A co-worker/friend suggested she ask the Family Consumer Science teacher who has a cooking class.  The students enjoy doing different food requests.  Their clients supply the ingredients and the students put it together.  Learning takes place!   Before she could ask for their help, the teacher told the office the students were behind in the requests for different cooking projects.  Now this idea was not an option at all.

At the same time Kathy was praying for God to show her a way to complete all her tasks, I was buying groceries.  I was buying cucumbers and cream cheese!  When Kathy and I realized what was taking place and how God was moving through us, we couldn't help but be in awe of how God works.

Kathy was certainly doing what God had called her to do in this mission field, and God used me to help her.

It is me again, Lord, thanking You for the testimony of a best friend who lives her life for You.

A little Georgia Wisdom: No matter how small you think your contributions are, God can use you.

Granny Dyal's Box of Shoes

Many interesting people cross our paths and leave their marks.  One such lady was Granny Dyal. Granny Dyal was not my blood relative, but neither was Aunt Mandy Broome or Aunt Bessie Stephens.  This story is about Granny Dyal and her box of shoes.

My cousin Bruce told me this story about his Granny Dyal's box of shoes he found when he was a little boy.  These shoes were not the fancy-go-to-church shoes she might save for Sunday, but old shoes of her family, children and grandchildren.  The shoes dated all the way back to the turn of the century through about 1960.  There were baby shoes worn thin by the tiny feet which outgrew them for larger ones, little girl and boy's shoes, ladies shoes, and men's work shoes that showed repair after repair and was finally beyond being wearable.

Granny Dyal kept the worn out shoes with holes in the bottoms or with wire stitches that held the soles to the top of the shoes.  Shoes that had walked hot fields and traveled long South Georgia tobacco rows behind an old horse or mule.  Shoes that helped a young bride walk to meet her groom. Shoes that carried a future soldier to sign up for war.  Granny Dyal had saved the shoes of her loved ones.

It was often at night before going to bed that Granny Dyal would pull that box of shoes out from under her bed.  One by one, she would take out a pair of shoes and would clutch them tenderly and would begin to pray. "Lord, please bless and protect my daughter (etc.) and her family..."  Her children and grandchildren lived away, far and wide, but these old shoes kept all of them close to her especially when she was worried when someone got sick or hurt.  That's when she would pull that old box out.  What was really neat was that no one ever knew about that old box of shoes, but Granny Dyal and her grandson, Bruce.

Bruce found out about that old box when he spent the entire summer with his grandmother.  He would take out those shoes and try them on.  His granny scolded him about that, for to her they were something sort of sacred.  The life of those old shoes were gone, but she had found a new purpose for keeping them.  Granny Dyal died in 1973 at the age of 84, and in that box was another pair of shoes.  These were from her great-grandson, Michael, Bruce's son.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the love and prayers of Granny Dyal.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  No one can have enough prayers said on their

behalf; therefore, remember a loved one or two as you pray.

Tom's "Homemade" Four-wheeler

Cousin Susie and I were the official guinea pigs for her brother Tommy's experiments. He would work and work "to create" and then we fell victim to "trying it out." One such contraption was a homemade four-wheeler, go-cart, speed demon rolled into one!  Tommy was a creative genius! Are so we thought... 

Tommy had worked on this thing for several days and the time of unveiling had arrived!  Of course, Susie and I thought that was a neat looking  go-cart, and we volunteered to try it out.  As I look back on our decision, well let's just say hindsight offers good advice.

Tommy rolled it out into the yard.  We examined this piece of machinery carefully.  He had taken the used, discarded wire spool from the local phone company to make the back wheels.  The front wheels were homemade axles with smaller wheels from a lawnmower.  Two straps attached at each front wheel would guide this baby anywhere we wanted to go.  Awesome! 

We crawled up on the seats and waited for the powerful engine (muscle power of Tommy) to get us started down the dirt road. Susie was going to drive.  Man, we looked good sitting up there on the go-cart with every hair on our heads looking beauty parlor sharp.  Our clothes were neat and clean just ready for a day at the movies.  One good push, and we were rollin'.

We had started our ride on an incline so that it would roll faster and go farther with that big push.  Off just like expected, but the huge machine was difficult for a 70-pound girl to steer.  That's when we discovered the missing brakes!  Tommy had forgotten to put brakes on that mean machine and before we could yell for help, we landed in the ditch and were covered with red Georgia dust. 

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for allowing us to survive the daring souls of our youth.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Before treading unfamiliar territory, be sure you know the limits and how to stop before you get there.

Sweet Julia

I love the innocence of children. My children taught me a lot about life; and now, my grandchildren are teaching me too.

Our granddaughter Julia is five years old.  She has a keen perception about life.  In some ways she is more mature than her five years.  She analyzes.   Yes, analyzes life.  When she has a good idea or some thought that she is going to share with us, she says, "God just put that in my mind." She gives God credit for the good ideas and the good thoughts she has.  She is compassionate.

Her compassion for others is genuine.  She shows concern and often asks how others are doing.  When she says grace at the table, she remembers others in her prayer and asks God to bless them.  Her prayers are not just parroted but words she has chosen to talk to God.  Julia's dad is in need of a kidney transplant, and in her sweet little voice, she asks God to make him well.

Julia has that sweet innocence we all want or wish we still had.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for children who show us how life should be.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Slow down and view life as a child.  It is amazing how much one can learn.

Peaches and Soap Suds

Summers were always filled with adventures.  You have read about my cousins and how much fun we had growing up.  We were a close family and to some degree, we still are.  One of my favorite memories is going to Commerce, Georgia and spending a week with cousins Carol and Nancy.  Carol and I are the same age; Nancy is younger.

They lived in one of the neatest houses.  It had bamboo cane growing in the backyard.  Great fishing poles came from that cane.  Uncle Hollis could take a section of the larger cane and cut it just right, and it became a bank with a slit in the top to put in our pennies, nickels, and dimes.

Their house had a very long screened porch across the front of the house.  There were plenty of chairs on which to sit if we ever got still enough to sit in one.  A visit to Uncle Hollis and Aunt Julia's was a treat.  Carol, Nancy, and I played for hours on end.  It was a favorite place to visit and stay over night.  I was staying for the week when the peaches were ready to pick.

Uncle Hollis brought home several bushels of peaches.  We were to become the "Peach Machine"!  Gathered on the long, screened porch all of us worked with the peaches.  We peeled peaches; we cut peaches; we preserved the peaches by putting them in Ball canning jars and freezer bags; Aunt Julia pickled peaches; we had peaches coming out of our ears!

We worked on peaches all that week  It may have been only a few days, but it seemed like the whole week was dedicated to peaches. The "Peach Machine" had done its job.  We had been instructed and trained by the best, Aunt Julia.

To get to the kitchen we had to go through a large living room and an even larger dinning room.  Can you imagine the peach juice dripped on the floor as we carried large containers through these two rooms to get to the kitchen.  Thank goodness there was no carpet on the wooden floors.

Aunt Julia gave us the job of cleaning up the floors in the two rooms as she finished preserving the peaches. It was a job for the strong and creative, and Carol and I were just the ones to do it.  We filled a bucket with warm water and detergent.  We started off with a mop and it loaded with the soapy mixture.  We didn't squeeze the water out of the mop; we just slapped that wet cotton ball attached to the long end of that stick from the bucket to the floor.  The suds were great!.  We may have used a little much, but we were on a mission to clean that floor!  The "Peach Machine" had become the "Cleaning Machine"!

Aunt Julia strongly suggested we clean up the suds.  With the towels she provided, the living room and dinning area became a skating rink.  We would slip and slide across the floor on the towels.  We raced; we fell; we got soaked, but we had so much fun.  Nancy was taking her turns, but she was younger and couldn't get the hang of it like we did.  We busted our bottoms a few times, but you know, it didn't seem to hurt.  When you're having fun, one doesn't feel the pain.

It took longer than it should have to clean up our mess, but Aunt Julia didn't get upset at us.  She allowed us to enjoy that afternoon.  I'm sure she appreciated the help with the peaches and this was our reward.  Work became play and the results were clean floors.  Oh, what a wonderful memory of that week and that day!

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for wonderful adults in our lives who let us work and play without criticism.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Look for fun opportunities in your work.  It makes the outcome sweeter.

Dick Tracy Technology

We have come along way since Dick Tracy had the only wrist watch with the ability to communicate.  It not only allowed him to talk, but it was a miniature television. Pretty neat.  Dick Tracy's technology was ahead of its time.  I often thought about how I could use one of those gadgets.  My friends and I could talk to each other without ever tying up the eight party line telephone we had in our house.

Eight families shared a telephone line.  This was an excellent source of frustration.  I'm sure that the other seven families felt the same way we did when we wanted to call our friends.  Someone was always on the line.  Of course when we first got a telephone, I really didn't have anyone to call because I was so young, but it was nice to think I did.

Teenagers and party lines can be interesting.  We knew everyones' business and they knew ours.  We knew who was dating whom and who had just had their hearts broken.  Our parents did not approve of our nosy intrusions into the private lives of other members, so we did limit our gossip gathering to other teens on the line.

Even with our gossip gathering intrusions into other teens' business, we really didn't argue with each other about it.  It was sort of expected--a coming of age if you will.  The network provided better news than the radio or television in our world.

I watched my granddaughters type faster on a small telephone than many adults do on a computer keyboard.  The small items can do most anything.  Last night I watched them transmit good-night wishes and view each other as they said it.  It doesn't matter where one goes, the internet is available on those tiny units.  Information of all kinds at the finger tips, Dick Tracy could have solved his police cases in record time.

Progress.  Progress that many of us were reluctant to embrace and now unable to live without.  Yes, I can't leave home without my cellular phone.  Yes, I have pictures of my grandchildren on my little phone.  Yes, I depend on this little device to make me feel safer on the roads as I travel to work and home again.  It has taken me over 50 years to have the Dick Tracy technology which was only a dream to own.  My, where did the time go?

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for progress.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Remember that even on the telephones of today, nothing you say or text  is private.

Bathroom Sweets

My Cousins-in-Crime are reminding me that I didn't finish the "Sweet Potato" story.  They insist that the rest of our mischief  must be revealed in order to make adults aware of the dangers of the shenanigans of children .  So folks, sit back and listen and, by all means. learn.  If nothing else, you will never look at chocolate and peppermint chewing gum in the same way again.

In the middle 1950s, one could buy a pound of coffee in tin cans with a neat little key that opened the lid.  The cans and lids were used by us as cooking utensils in homemade playhouses, but that is another story for another day.  The adults saved them and used the cans for storing small items. Lucky for us Aunt Gladys and Uncle Tim were coffee drinkers and had several saved for future use.. Those one pound coffee cans came in handy for Richard, Susan, Lynn, Glenn, and me.  Dwayne was still in diapers and didn't need one.

Tom was the eldest of us kids and knew where there where small packages of chocolate and chewing gum in the bathroom.  So being the sweet and sharing cousins we were, we split the packs so everyone of us had either chocolate squares or tiny chewing gum pillows.  The chewing gum tasted like peppermint. Tom  helped the younger ones to divide our treasures.  It was like striking gold in the bathroom. I will add here that Tom couldn't have been more than nine years old and was so generous that he shared his findings with the rest of us.

We enjoyed our goodies and played in a newly painted bedroom.  Soon we all needed to use the bathroom at the same time.  It was as if a stomach bug had attacked all of us at the very same time.  Aunt Gladys thought quickly and started passing out the small, empty coffee cans.  All of the younger children had one while Tommy got the commode.  It was a busy and smelly time.

If memory serves me correctly, the chocolate and gum wrappers cleared up the mystery of the stomach virus.  Tommy had found chocolate Ex-lax and Feen-a-Mint gum laxatives.  Fortunately we were sweet children and shared our treasures which kept us from overdosing.  We also had a bottle of children's aspirin and shared the tiny orange tasting treats.  The Lord took care of us.  There were enough children that when we shared, we prevented a fatal outcome.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for watching over small children who love to plunder.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Children love to explore.  They will find your stash of "goodies."

Sweet Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes on the Wall...

Picture a house filled with family.  Brothers and a sister, with their spouses, and their children gathered together for an evening of fun.  The adults are in the dinning room sitting around the table catching up on all the latest news.  The children are in the bedroom playing.  The youngest is in diapers and the oldest is around nine years old.  We know that there were at least seven children and maybe up to nine or eleven.  We can't agree on who all was involved, but we do know the room was filled with little children.  We could have started our own day care, but the adults were not supervising or the ending of this story would have been a happy one.


We are not absolutely sure of what happened with the little ones, but it is said there was a bushel of tomatoes and a pair of suspenders involved, and what looked like a little pile of creamed sweet potatoes on the wall.  You are already putting this story together aren't you?


Aunt Gladys and Uncle Tim had just purchased a brand new mattress for one of the beds in that small room.  The children had no mercy.


I am not going to point blame at anyone of the children, we were all equally guilty, except the one in diapers.  I'm sure he didn't know how the "sweet potatoes" got on the wall.  The rest of us deserved what we got, but for the life of me, I can't remember if we were punished or if our parents were just glad to get us out of the room to clean it up.


My mother told me that the room was a mess.  Uncle Buford thought the yellowish/orange pile on the wall was sweet potatoes, but upon examination of some on the tip of his finger and a sniff proved otherwise. The mattress had to be carried out in a sheet.  (When she told this, I could just hear "Taps" being played as they carried it out of the house.)  Poor mattress died before it was able to give comfort to a sleeping child.


Mama never told me the exact cause of its demise, but it was probably soaked with the tomatoes which were propelled through the air by a pair of suspenders hooked to the bedpost.  The projectiles  hit the wall and slowly coated it as it made its way to the bed.


It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the love of family even when we may not deserve it.


A little Georgia Wisdom:  Leaving children to entertain themselves may result in creative destruction!

"We were Heroes"

Georgia summers are always hot and dusty.  Barefooted kids don't mind if their feet are coated with the red dirt. In someways it cushions the feet so you don't mind the rocks as you race from one adventure to another.  We loved summer.  School was out and our cousins from Florida would come spend a few weeks at our house, and we were in a world where it was fun from dewy morning to lightening bug nights.

This was one of the best summers ever.  My cousins, Bruce and Earl, lived across the dirt road from us.  My brother Dwayne was old enough to traverse the fields with the older cousins.  Tom, Dick, and Susie were visiting from Florida.  It was just great!  Those hot summer days were filled with secrets, visit from cousins Carol and Nancy, giggles, scary stories, and awesome adventures.

We had been playing all morning.  The fields were covered with broom straw, the pastures were green with patches of brown dying grass from the hot sun, and little children.  We were everywhere!  Daddy's old milk cow was in the pasture, but we hadn't seen her all morning.  That was really not that unusual, because we tried to stay out of her way.

The boys decided to go down to the creek.  There was a strip of trees on the other side of the pasture near the creek.  That's the place where this mystery begins.

As the boys approached the tree line, they noticed it hanging from the tree.  At first they couldn't tell what it was, but as they moved closer they realized it was the long tail of the cow.  The hairs on one end of the tail were knotted in the tree.  The bloody knob was hanging down.  Surely something had attacked the cow and jerked her tail right off!

It took some doing to get the tail from the tree limb where it was tangled and knotted.  How could this have happened?  What animal could have done this to the cow?  Was there a huge human like creature out there just waiting for livestock and little children.  It had attacked the cow, and we just knew we were going to be next!  Fear made its way into ever fiber of our being that day.  The trophy tail was displayed over and over again as the boys marched throughout the neighborhood with the proof that something lurked out there in the woods.

The mailman came and seven barefoot children and one bloody cow's tail met him.  The story was growing with each telling.  We were sure that children were going to be next.  It must have dragged the old milk cow away because we couldn't find her anywhere.  This creature that attacked the cow was going to be back and carry one of us away.  When our dads got home, they were going to contact the authorities and hunt this creature down and kill it.  The mailman left our mailboxes with news of this creature. He could spread the word to other families and save their livestock and children.  We were heroes!  Now everyone would be prepared and the community would be saved!

The cow was discovered by my dad with a severe infection in the nub of what was left of her tail.  The infection got into the blood stream and eventally killed her.  Daddy tried to save her life, but just couldn't.  The story of that afternoon is true.  The cow had lost her tail and gave us a chance to exercise our over active imaginations.  It gave us a chance to save our community from the unknown forces at work pulling tails off of cows by giving the the folks an early warning about what could possibly be out there stalking the community.

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the adults in our lives who listened to our stories and let us enjoy our imaginations.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Never carry a cow's tail (or any other body part of an animal) around on a hot Georgia day.  It will begin to stink.