Two pews up and just to the left is where she was. From my seat I could see she was in deep meditation. The words on the pages lay before her in her lap. She was completely consumed by what she was reading. What was it that had her so drawn in? What was it about the words she was looking at? I couldn't help but notice. She was being affected by what she read. From where I sat, it was a beautiful picture.

It was late 80’s. My Mamaw offered to let me pick some greens to cook and have for supper (fyi, supper is currently referred to as dinner). I accepted and went by to pick. She and papaw lived right smack dab in the middle of a very small town with a population about 100. My husband and I lived 2 miles from her.

Arriving at her house I walked in through the side door, as all family and friends did. We grabbed a container to pick the greens. Off to the garden we went.

My sister was born when I was 11. She came along a little later in life for mom and dad. With two older siblings, and experienced parents, she was destined for an extraordinary childhood. She was a toy for my brother and myself. If a baby could remember events from infancy, she could tell you of the time she was lying in my lap, and somehow slipped off onto the floor and bumped her head.