Father's Day

 This is a photo of my father, Rev. James "Rondy" Ledford who was the pastor of Moss Memorial Baptist Church in Clay County, North Carolina.

My father's love was like no other.  It gave me the warm feeling of protection and gentle guidance and inspired me to live up to his example.

As with most little girls, my bond with Daddy began when I was about 3 years old.  I would look out the living room window off Swaims Road, waiting for him to come home from work.

When I heard his old black Ford pull into the driveway, I rushed out to greet him.  He hugged me and we walked hand in hand to the house.

I opened his lunchbox and often found a moon pie that he purchased at the little country store.  He also got my brother, Harold, and sister, Barbara, and our Mama moon pies, too.  On special occasions we enjoyed RC Colas with our treats.

When I reflect on my childhood, I'm amazed how he could build anything.  His favorite color was brown because he liked to work with his hands.  Daddy made a playhouse for us kids, built a porch and pantry for Mama's canned goods, fashioned beautiful birdhouses, and built a church.

Together he and Mama built Pine Grove Baptist Church with other founding members.  They mixed mortar on site to construct blocks for the little country church.  After he helped to plant the church, Daddy was called by God to preach.  He was the pastor of several churches in Western North Carolina for 40 years.  He was a father figure to some orphans who attended Shiloh Baptist Church.  All of these youngsters grew up to be outstanding citizens.  

Although Daddy passed away many years ago, my bond with him remains constant as the sun coming up each day.  I was very blessed to have a wonderful, kind, and compassionate father.

I wish all my blogger friends a very happy Father's Day!

Wildflower Refuge

 

WILDFLOWER REFUGE

Brenda Kay Ledford 

This morning I relax on the front porch and sip coffee.  Dog-flea flowers nod their purple heads in the yard.  Songbirds perform a gig in the poplars, and roses perfume the mountains.  A sparrow flies with a twig in its beak and builds a nest on the eaves of my house. 

My yard is like a wilderness.  I can’t mow it due to the rain.  Rabbits hop and romp through the weeds.  White-tailed deer nibble the grass and wild turkeys parade in single file down my driveway. 

Last week tourists tumbled from a van.  Cameras clicked as they photographed the wildflowers.  They thought my yard was beautiful. 

It’s the trend to get outdoors, embrace nature.  Take off your shoes, ground with the earth’s energy.  From nose-to-toes, let nature heal you, even in my yard. 

Wishing my blogger friends a Happy Spring!

Mama's Lemon Meringue Pie

                                             My mother, Blanche, sitting on the front porch.  

Each afternoon when my sister, Barbara, and brother Harold, and I, got off the school bus; Mama served us a snack.  Sometimes she made a lemon meringue pie from scratch.

"Wash your hands, kids," she said with her sweet voice.  "Come to the table.  I've fixed a snack to tidy you over until supper."

Even today, my favorite dessert is lemon meringue pie.  I've tried to follow Mama's recipe, but I can't duplicate her scrumptious dessert.  It never tastes right.

She made snacks for years, until all her children finished high school.  I was the youngest, and the last to graduate.  She prepared delicious food when snow twirled like feathers, and as the redbud trees danced in breath-taking blooms.

I cherish the memories of my devoted- mountain mama, who reared me.  She worked in the kitchen, and garden to nourish the body and soul.

Mama could hardly wait to grab a hoe each spring, and dig in the dirt.  She enjoyed watching plants pop up in the garden.  She loved nature and green was her favorite color.  As she worked outdoors, Mama listened to the mourning doves, Bob whites, and whippoorwills trilling in the hills.  The music of the songbirds soothed her soul, and tension melted from her body.

At times, I can still see my mama, her snow-white hair shining in the sunlight, or glowing under a lamp as she pieced the Cathedral Quilt.  Her sky-blue eyes sparkled, and her face glowed with love, as she smiled at me.

Mama's been gone for four years.  She passed at spring, when the dogwoods wore dozens of white crosses.  I think that's when she would have chosen to enter that "Pearly-White City."

I wish all my blogger friends a very

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!