This week I want to showcase some of my Mamaw's keeps.
For you non-southerners, a Mamaw is a grandmother. ;)
My Mamaw's name was Billie Pauline.
Sometime before marrying my Papaw in the summer of 1930, she made this pillowcase.
It sat on my Papaw's bed in their home...my second home.
I spent a large part my childhood there.
I loved to fall down upon the quilts she'd made and
read the books in the shelves.
The breeze blew in thru the open windows and the hours flew by too quickly in that little back bedroom.
I asked a lot of questions.
One particular question raised her eyebrows higher than usual.
It was a hot summer day and I was walking
on the curb in front of the house.
I liked to walk on the curb and see how far I could go before falling.
I stumbled and fell into a sticker patch.
Stickers... nature's revenge against mankind.
While I was squealing and hopping on one foot, Mamaw came outside with the tweezers.
You can't just pull those things out with your bare hands.
Your hands will bleed.
They really hurt. I mean, seriously.
Grown men invent new cuss words when impaled by the stickers.
As Mamaw removed the horrible things,
I demanded to know why God made stickers.
I told her that I thought God must be a very mean man to make the world full of stickers.
That's when the eyebrows happened.
She looked at me for a minute and then let out a sigh.
She told me that God had a purpose for everything on earth.
That she'd told me not to walk that curb a million times, because I was going to get run over in the street.
She said I'd best be reminded of that with those big green stickers in my foot.
And I was.
Sometimes we don't understand why we must go thru painful experiences in order to learn.
Stickers are everywhere and they take many forms.
Even human.
I'm just glad to know there's a plan.
Well done, Billie Pauline.
Well done.
