The year was 1824 and we had moved from Tennessee to the foothills in Alabama after our crops in Tennessee had been gathered in. I had bought 20 acres of land in the valley below the mountain plateau I first crossed with General Jackson in 1812.
When we were settling into the new homestead, we immediately began cutting logs for a small cabin. We figured the land on the downside of the mountain would be the richest ground. So that’s where we cut the first trees for our house, gaining logs, and clearing a cornfield at the same time.
Continue reading “Praying for Rain”
I remember taking my beloved Christian brother, Pastor Baptiste, who lives in Haiti, to one of our American all-you-can-eat buffets. There were stations after stations of food. He was amazed at the quantity of food and that he could eat all he wanted. When I was with him in Haiti, I discovered he had told many of his friends about his unbelievable experience at the bountiful restaurant.
Continue reading “More Than Enough”
My old lover of hot summers is about to fade as the sunny hours grow fewer and the hot begins to turn toward cold. I am a son of the South, so I love okra, that odd vegetable that fills our summer plates and occasionally takes some space in our soups. Our Louisiana cousins put it in gumbo, and we love it too.
Our regional preferred dish is breaded and fried. I am one of the odd ones who also loves it boiled, leaving it slimy and slick. It chews easy and goes down quick.
Continue reading “Goodbye Ole Okra”
On my first trip to Haiti, a family loaned me their video camera. At that time, they were extremely expensive, but they insisted I take it. Unknown to me, the camera had a loose screw on the eye piece. In the middle of about a hundred school kids or more, it fell to the ground. This little fellow about seven years old tugged on my pant leg and held it up to me. God gave me an angel feather.
Continue reading “Angel Feathers”
I have never understood why many words in different languages are not spelled as they are pronounced. “Enough” is one of those words in our English language. I would write it in my phonetical brain as “Enuf”. But this post is not about phonetics—I’m just chasing another rabbit.
Enough means different things to different people. So, from a hoarder to a minimalist, the word would have a wide swath of meaning. Sufficient is a good definition.
Continue reading “Enough”