I am from a holler a mile and half long in the mountains of West Virginia, from Sunbeam bread and Oscar Mayer Bologna.
I am from the house my dad built with his own two hands.
I am from the summers full of rhubarb with sugar and crab apples eaten with salt.
I am from Thanksgiving with Turkey raised on our farm and a strong work ethic, from the Raynard and Geneva Newhouse homestead.
I am from the most giving and kind family.
From a family who counts their blessings and not their sorrows.
I am from Christian parents who always blesses others and does without themselves. From parents who never thought of themselves.
I'm from hot summer days without air conditioning, a dad who cooked and washed laundry.
From the mother who was an orphan, the father who worked hard but never played, and the family that sticks together no matter what!
I am from the family with no monetary worth on earth, but mansions in heaven!
Gosh this took some thought! It doesn't flow that great, but it is all true! The picture is my home "Three Mile Holler"
3 comments:
Did you read my poem? I don't eat bologna anymore because we had it almost everyday on white bread with ketchup.
Wonderful! It took me quite some time, too. But it's a good remembering exercise, I think. Love the picture! Never seen the holler...B.
Which one was their house?
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