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La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

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Grandma's Flower Garden
by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Rated "G" by the Author.

       
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           >> View all 44


     From My Book, OLD TIMES NOT FORGOTTEN




















Grandma's Flower Garden

My maternal grandmother literally lived for her family and her home. My grandparents were poor. They were both cotton mill workers and they owned a little farm in their younger and middle years. Later in life they moved into the city. They had a small three room mill house that was a hundred years old. The mill houses had been built for the cotton mill workers to occupy and were originally owned by the mill and rented out to their employees. Later on a mill house could be purchased for a very tiny price, this was all my grandparents could afford.

She was a very beautiful woman, even in her old age her lovely bone structure was still obvious. I remember brushing her long hair and all the changes it went through from light brown to pure white.

Grandma told me stories of her girlhood. She was especially close to her mother's father when she was a little girl. He was blind and she would lead him around by the hand and describe the flowers to him. Her mother was the one I was named for. Grandma told me about her beautiful red hair. Grandma's mother would get happy in church and when she shouted or ran her bonnet would fall off and Grandma would run behind her to pick it up.

My grandmother's hands were seldom idle. They were occupied with cleaning, cooking, vegetable gardening and canning. I never remember her sitting down without a piece of crocheting in her hands. The thing that she did for the recreation and love of it was flower gardening. She had a flower garden everywhere she lived and spent many hours planting, cultivating her beautiful flowers. She could name all the flowers and plants in her garden and any that you might see on a trip along side the road. I marveled at her botanical knowledge for not only could she name all the plants she knew their habits and medicinal purposes. Everything I know about crocheting and plants I learned from my grandmother.

In the summertime there were always fresh cut flowers on her table and the little house would be filled with their fragrance.

Grandma was a religious woman and could quote you a scripture on almost any subject. She had only two vices, snuff and soap operas, both of which she indulged in regularly. The snuff was never thought of as harmful or sinful in those days and in the soap operas she could always find a moral lesson in to point out to the younguns if they happened to catch her watching one.

She was a beautiful soul who loved her family and home. She could tell you the names, first and second of all her many grandchildren and the dates of each of their births. Even as a very old lady she remembered those details. I still have an extremely old ceramic pie plate that belonged to my grandmother and her mother before her. Every time I use that plate I can remember the taste of her delicious sweet potato custard. I've never tasted its equal or the equal of her chicken fried in a cast iron skillet on her wood stove.

My grandfather was also hard working but as Grandma was of a more serious nature, Grandpa was jovial most of the time. He always had a smile and a piece of candy for his grandchildren. When he passed away Grandma came to live with my parents. As she had everywhere else, she quickly established her little flower garden.By this time I was married and living in a distant city. When I would come home to visit, Grandma and I would take a stroll through her flower garden and she
would fill me in on all the facts about every flower. Those were times I will always cherish in my memory.

The day she died, my very elderly grandmother worked all morning in her flowers. Came in, laid down on her bed and went to sleep forever.

I was visiting home recently. My grandparent's little farm is still there but the farmhouse is gone now, replaced by a mobile home. I visited their graves and a flood of fond memories swept over me. I wish I lived closer so I could plant and tend a small flower garden on Grandma's grave. My grandparents still bring me a smile when they are often remembered. My grandparents were very special people who graced my childhood with their love and example. I still miss them after so many years and I thank God I knew them.       

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Reviewed by D. Vegas 8/11/2016
Enjoyed your story. Your grandparents sounded like beautiful souls and how lucky you were to have them in your life.

Always,
Deborah
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 8/10/2016
Your grandmother was, indeed, a remarkable woman and I'm so glad that you were so close to her and resemble her in many ways. What a wonderful way to spend your last day. Attending your flowers and then going to sleep for an eternal last nap.

I was fortunate to have experienced all four of my grandparents until I was 20 and beyond. My grandparents were all different and Great Depression poor, but wonderful in their each own ways. My maternal grandmother and I traveled together by car in 1966 and 1968 across the country to California and back with many adventures that I still cherish. She told me of traveling with her parents in a wagon pulled by oxen when she was a child. She flew to join me in a jet plane.

Ron
Reviewed by Eva Pasco 8/9/2016
Reading your beautiful tribute to your loving grandmother reminded me of my own grandmother and grandfather who immigrated to this country and how they were devoted to their children and grandchildren.
Reviewed by David Thompson 8/9/2016
This is such a wonderful, feel-good story. It reminds me so...so much about the way I was raised. We were dirt poor when I grew up in the 1940s-50s, but we honestly didn't know any better. We had a roof over our head, clothes to wear (maybe not the best), a mother who could cook the best food from scratch, and parents who protected us and loved us no matter what. Your story truly did strike a chord with me. Thank you for the memories.

David
Reviewed by Lewis Findley 8/9/2016
Look down.....look down....that long lonesome road.... Before thou travelest on....look up...look up...and see thy maker...for Gabriel blows his horn.......belle, I have often written about my grandparents at, that's right, THAT page, where I was still penning away when they both passed onto Glory. Her in 2005. He in 2008. And I wrote extensively about them there. This was a very moving tribute to your mothers mother Belle. I have no doubt she was sainted and angelic as was mine. My grandmother too was a devout Christian. When it comes the time I know I will see her again inHeaven and amen
Reviewed by Jms Bell 8/9/2016
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL, LA BELLE, I REALLY ENJOYED IT. I ONLY HAD A GRANDMA, WHO LOVED ME VERY MUCH. THOUGH SHE WAS BORN AND RAISED IN THE SOUTH, BY THE TIME I CAME ALONG SHE WAS LIVING PERMANENTLY IN NEW YORK CITY ON THE TOP FLOOR OF A WALK-UP BUILDING. BUT IT'S THE LOVE THAT'S IMPORTANT ISN'T IT? WHEN WE THINK BACK AND REMEMBER THAT WE WERE VALUED MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD. GOOD MEMORIES FLOODED WITH THIS READING, THANK YOU FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS

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