I’m pleased to reblog my mother’s third blog post. Please follow her blog to receive notifications of new posts.
A favorite picture of my father. You can barely see my little sister Brenda in front of him. She is almost hidden by a huge staked tomato plant.
My father was a country preacher. He was lanky, skinny, and wore thick black rimmed glasses. He was a story teller, a picture taker, and a nurturer. He talked to everyone who crossed his path and most times went out of his way to meet people and talk to them. At the time I did not understand, but I know now that this was by God’s design.
My father was well known for his vegetable garden. During the summer months, on any given day, dressed in a white dress shirt, tie, and trousers you would find him at work in his garden full of lush and heavy laden plants. The soil was soft and warm and felt delightful to bare toes. My sisters and I loved to frolic…
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