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Memory of Grandpa

by Annie Mozelle Smith Marra

I was standing by the wall in the bed room of my grandmother and grandfather Annie and Hiram Davis. I was wearing my white islet church dress. My hands were touching the wall behind me. I was aware of the hair , a little curly tickling my neck. The bed was between me and my father Tollie Smith. My grandfather was resting on the bed with his head on the pillow. I knew he was ill. My father was sitting on a straight chair leaning back on the door frame. He had a black book in his hands opened. I heard, " The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want, he makes me to lie down in green pastures." I saw my grandfather rise up and swing his legs off the bed and sat up, his white hair in disarray. He began to fall forward. My father quickly stood up in front of him and gently laid him down again. His last words were, "Annie, get me a drink of water." My grandmother Annie ran to get him a drink.

The next thing I remember was my father closing his eyes, first one and then the other. I wondered what was happening. My two Aunts who were there went outside, and I followed unnoticed by them. The were each weeping tears, weeping silently. The next thing I remember was that my grandfather was laying on a slab in some part of the house, with a sheet covering his body. Some one was bathing him from head to foot. Later, perhaps the next night, he had been placed in a casket and was in the front room of the house. Kerosene lamps dimly lit the room. There were fresh flowers and a lot of faces adults and children. My greatest memories of that of that night was helping to pick up many red glass beads, which was in style at that time. I also remember the children. I don't remember the funeral, perhaps I wasn't allowed to go for one reason or another. I was 4 years old.

Later I remembered sitting on my grandfathers lap as he rocked on the porch. He would sing a cute song to me which I have forgotten. I also remember he would pop something on my forehead. It would go "pop", and break open. There was a green berry inside. At that time I lived several yards away with my family in a small wooden house. I have many memories from there. I had three older sisters and three brothers. The youngest was my brother Elver.
 

As Cowpokes Play
Sheila Goodwin Howard
For Don

Remember back through the years a way….
When we played together on a summer day.
A day that was hot, in a world made for two;
In a fennel weed house,
We dreamed me and you.
We ran down the road or through fields that were dusty;
Or climbed over fences all sagging and rusty,
In search of the robbers we sheriffs were after
On horses of tobacco sticks we took from the rafter.
They were firey and proud and took a strong hand
But ever loyal they stayed till we caught the villainous band
And after we'd caught the nasty ole crooks
We'd sing as we rode through the rain filled brooks
That were really big rivers that led through the pass
And into the valley of pine trees and grass.
How cool was the water that looked like Ice Tea
On that hot summer's day for a little you and me.

Best Friends

Don and Sheila went to play
Down the dusty road of clay
Through palmettos pointed high
Under Georgia's summer sky.

Sagging fences felt them pass
The red haired boy and the fair haired lass.
Warm wind whistled through the pines
Legs got scratched on tangled vines.
They waited not for anyone
but, ran and dreamed neath the Georgia Sun.

Corn stood high in even rows
And the earth felt good between their toes
Their joyous laughter filled the wood
And all their thoughts were warm and good.

In thinking of summers long gone by
I remember those children and the blue Georgia sky
As they ran and played in a world of joy,
The fair haired lass and the red haired boy.

Sheila Goodwin Howard, 1976
For my bestest friend, Donald Crews

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