Some of you may subscribe to the "Good Old Days Magazine." My story, "Special Fashion Show," appeared in the January/February 2023 print issue. If you get the magazine, you might want to read my true story about hand me down clothes.
Peace and Joy to you this season!
Brenda
She watched me put my laundry into the washing machines and asked my name.
"Brenda. What's your name?"
"Kristy, and I'm five," she said and held up her hand.
Ornaments glittered on the tiny Christmas tree that the attendant put on a table. I hummed, "Jingle Bells."
Kristy gazed at the tree with sad eyes. "I won't have Christmas."
An elderly lady limped to Kristy and hugged her. "It's okay. Don't cry, baby."
I gave the woman a sympathetic look. "Are you her grandmother?"
"Yes, she lives with me. Her parents died in a car crash. We won't have much of a Christmas. Can't afford it."
When the little girl and her grandma left the laundry mat, the attendant told me they lived in a modest house on Shooting Creek. She whispered that at one time they parked a car in the woods and lived in it.
Our church filled a box with canned goods, gift cards, and wrapped presents for Kristy. We delivered the box on Christmas Eve.
Little Kristy clapped her hands and ripped the paper off her presents. She danced across the porch with her doll and teddy bear. She had a joyful Christmas!
by: Brenda Kay Ledford
This story appeared in "Joy to All," a poetry and prose anthology, printed by: Old Mountain Press
I wish all my blogger friends a very Merry Christmas and Joyful New Year!
Brenda
November drapes the Blue Ridge Mountains with a tapestry of maroon, gold, and brown. It weaves a mat of tan threads on the soybean field that's ready to harvest.
Two squirrels chase each other around a tree trunk, leap on a carpet of leaves, and scamper with walnuts into the woods. The waking sun ricochets through a handful of golden foliage.
Autumn fades into earth tones. These butternut colors depress some people because they announce the arrival of winter.
But my daddy's favorite color was brown. He ran a bulldozer and loved the dirt. Maybe it's because he was down-to-earth and made no pretense. Kind, generous, and grateful were his qualities.
He passed away on Thanksgiving Day. This holiday will always hold a hollow place in my heart. If it had been possible, Daddy would have chosen this day to enter heaven.
Created from the earth, returning to the earth, and springing forth from the earth. The cycle of life.
It's no wonder Daddy's favorite color was brown.
I wish all my blogger friends a blessed Thanksgiving!
Brenda
This is a fictional children's story about Punkin' Chunkin' and I've written the story in the voice of my Great-Niece, Reagan.
"We're going to the Punkin' Chunkin'," said Mama.
Little Reagan Blanche had never seen a pumpkin.
Dada drove up and up and up the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Pumpkins soared, sailed, and somersaulted through the blueberry skies.
Pumpkins rolled with a thunderous roar and splish splashed.
Dada gobbled, gorged, and goooooed pumpkin pie.
An airplane buzzed.
"Let's ride the plane," said Mama.
Watercolors plunk-plopped the trees.
People looked like ants on the ground.
A mechanical bull bar-bucked Dada.
Reagan Blanche fell asleep.
She dreamed of pumpkins zigzagging.
Pumpkins zigzesting.
Pumpkins zip lining the mountains.
According to Amelia Rhodes, "You may look back and realize they were big things."
Here's a list of little things I observed:
A butterfly on a sunflower
Scarlet leaves on a dogwood branch
Buttercups like stars scattered on the verdant grass
A hummingbird sipping nectar from the four-o-clock flowers
Dewdrops glittering like gems in the morning sun
Three wild turkeys gobbling from the woods
A tiny brown moth with white spots in its wings
One little purple flower popping up on my lawn
Fog rising like smoke signals from the mountains
Waves sparkling like diamonds on Lake Chatuge.
These are some of the little things I noticed when I really observed the wonders of nature.
I hope all my blogger friends are well and having a great summer as the autumn arrives.
Goldenrods dotting the mountains and coves of Appalachia.
You'll see her all hours of the day working out rows of beans. Not a weed in her garden. Her corn grows like the Jolly Green Giant, potatoes, tomatoes, leap from the ground. There's no doubt she's a master gardener.
One day it was 90 degrees and I noticed Miss Thelma hoeing the garden. I stopped to check on her (but didn't tell her that).
"Miss Thelma, you're going to have a heat stroke working in this hot weather," I said.
"I may do it," she said with a smile. "I just hope if I pass out, someone won't think this old lady is taking a nap and pass by. At least I'm wearing a cap."
I chatted with her awhile. She told me that she mowed her lawn that morning, and this afternoon worked in her garden.
Her red pickup was parked close to the garden. It had a power saw and some tree limbs on the back. Evidently she had trimmed some bushes either that day or another time.
I didn't criticize Miss Thelma for working. I figured it would be better to go on if you were still living an active life.
"You are an inspiration to our neighborhood, Miss Thelma. I hope if I live to your age, I can be as fit as you are."
She grinned and said she hoped to be able to garden for a long time. But everybody has to die sometime she added.
Finally, Miss Thelma is a strong person and a woman of faith. She's a mother figure and shares the fruit of her labor with others. Her vegetables are delicious and not like store-bought food. Maybe it's the love she puts into her garden that makes the difference. Our community is blessed that she lives here.
Fathers are special. They make a profound influence on the lives of children.
I was blessed to have a wonderful daddy. He worked hard to provide for our family.
Daddy was a bi-vocational minister. He pastored churches (never received a salary) and worked on construction jobs operating cranes and bulldozers for 50 cents an hour.
He instilled faith and the value of hard work in the lives of my siblings and me. Unfortunately, some people don't have that work ethic today.
Daddy also valued education. He didn't have an opportunity to get a college education because he worked as a teenager to help support his parents and siblings. Daddy was self-educated and loved to read especially the Bible.
Although Daddy couldn't afford it, he bought a set of "World Book Encyclopedias" for our family. He encouraged us to look up information and to enrich our lives.
"Get a good education," he said. "That's something no one can ever take away from you."
My siblings and I were fortunate to attend college. Daddy sacrificed to help with our education. My sister was the first one in our family to get a graduate degree. My brother was a 30-year law enforcement officer, and I'm a retired educator. We owe it to Daddy.
When Daddy had an opportunity to take seminary extension classes at the Dr. George W. Truett Baptist Association, he furthered his education. After working late each day on the construction job, he took classes at night. I know he was exhausted, but determined to learn all he could.
He wrote research papers and made an A on all his work. He was intelligent and had an amazing memory. Daddy memorized many books of the Bible, never used any notes when he delivered sermons.
Daddy instilled within me the values of hard work and knowledge. Most of all, he showed by example a life filled with faith and love!
I wish all my blogger friends a very happy Father's Day1
He sent down paintbrushes to the Cherokee. The artist painted a colorful flower that blazed like fire.
The Cherokee artist tossed the brushes into the woods. Indian Paintbrush wildflowers popped up across the Appalachian Mountains.
This is the legend how these beautiful wildflowers came to our mountains.
But lately I've been amazed at dozens of lights flashing in the trees. It's like Christmas ornaments in late May and early June.
The fireflies put on a night show. People flock to the Great Smoky Mountains to behold this wonder for two weeks every year.
The fireflies light up and go dark at the same time. The National Park Service holds an eight-day event for visitors to view this beautiful display.
When I was a child, our family sat on the front porch and watched the fireflies. We called them lightning bugs. My brother and I chased the insects and caught them in Mason jars. They were our lanterns, but we always released them unharmed.
It's an amazing show watching the fireflies flashing. How they synchronize their glow is another example of God's wonderful works!
A Girl and Her Dog
Happy Mother's Day to all of my blogger friends. I appreciate you very much!
Lend a Hand
My
hands have served
me
well as blood veins
crisscross
like Blue Ridge Mountains
where I grew up.
I
hoed the garden,
picked
okra, corn, green beans,
squash
and dug Irish potatoes.
I canned food, strung leather breeches.
Brother
George and I hacked
firewood
with a cross-cut saw
on
Davy Mountain, carried water
from the spring for the family.
I
scrubbed laundry on a rub board,
pressed
clothes with a flat iron
heated
in the fireplace.
I married Rondy and we had
four
babies, held them closely
knowing
life is short.
I
made dresses from feed sacks,
pieced
patchwork quilts.
--Brenda Kay Ledford
This is a photo of Mama when we attended the Georgia Mountain Fair in Hiawassee, GA. She put out many a washing in her younger days in the old wash tub using the rub board. Thank God for modern conveniences such as the washing machines.
If you would like to read my book of poetry about Mama, it may be found on www.amazon.com.
The title of the book of poetry is: Blanche, Poems of a Blue Ridge Woman. The book was published last year by Redhawk Publications.
National Brother's Day is observed Tuesday, May 24th, 2022 in the USA. This is a photo of my late brother, Harold who passed away in November, 2021 just before Thanksgiving.
The bond between Harold and me was strong. Due to sharing almost anything from growing up together, playing games, competitiveness, and getting into fights from time to time, we always supported each other.
There are few people who understand you like a brother. We were able to communicate without saying a word. Just looking at each other we knew what each was thinking. Harold always had my back and protected me.
My story, "Harold, My Big Brother, A Tribute Story to Honor National Brother's Day," appears on the website: "Daily Inspired Life" at:
dailyinspiredlife.com/national-brothers-day-big-brother-harold
If you have a brother, or a friend who feels like a brother, on this National Brother's Day, call this guy and tell him how much your love and appreciate him. We never ever know when a loved one might pass away and it will be too late to tell them how much we love them.
Wishing all my blogger friends joy and peace on National Brother's Day!
It's been a long tradition for the girls in our family to get new dresses for Easter. Although I don't need a new dress, I wanted to get one to celebrate spring. I saw a pretty green suit in the catalog and decided to get it.
When I called to order the dress, there was a communication breakdown with the customer representative. She couldn't understand my Southern accent and I couldn't understand her. She asked my name. I told her it was Brenda.
"Linda? Belinda? Merinda?" she asked.
I lost my patience and yelled, "No, it's Brenda!"
There was a pause on the telephone and I thought she had hung up. But I learned it's not a good idea to yell at the customer service representative. She has ways of getting even with you.
I was so excited when Fed Ex brought my package today. It was a week early and I could hardly wait to rip open the box.
The dress was so beautiful. A lovely shade of green. When I put it on the bed, I wondered if I had gained that much weight. The dress covered half of the bed. I had ordered size 10. The dress looked large enough for the circus lady.
I got my reading glasses and looked at the label. I couldn't believe it. The dress actually was size 100! I had never seen a size 100 dress before. Didn't know they made a size 100 dress.
I called my sister and asked if she wanted the dress. She seemed a little miffed at me and retorted, "I don't want that dress. Return it."
I told her I couldn't return it because the dress was marked down and they wouldn't let me return it.
"Give the dress to someone at church," my sister suggested.
"No, that wouldn't work. That would offend someone."
Finally, I decided to donate the dress to the thrift shop. The lady was tickled to death to get it.
But I learned one thing from this little story. Don't yell at the customer service rep. She can get even with you if she wants to in unusual ways.
I hope my blogger friends got a laugh from this true story.
Have a Happy Easter!
PARADE OF TULIPS
I didn't realize that in a split second sweet, well-behaved children could go wild.
I did my student teaching in a mountain school. The fourth graders were adorable. They wrote me love notes and hugged me, They peeked out the window and raced to meet me each morning when I pulled into the parking lot. The children carried my lunch and held my hand as we walked into the building.
I asked my supervisor if I could bring the students a surprise for being so well- behaved. She agreed and told me not to bring any sweets because Danny had sugar diabetes.
That afternoon I stopped at the Dollar Store. It was hard finding something without sugar. I saw some balloons and decided to get those for the kids.
The next day right before the students were dismissed from school, I gave out the balloons. The children were so happy and excited to get a surprise.
But sparks flew. It was complete chaos in the classroom. The children blew the balloons up, made squeaking noises, let them fly like UFO's, and popped the balloons. I couldn't believe how the kids went wild.
My supervisor teacher gave me the look, "It's your problem," and headed out the door. She left me alone to deal with the problem.
Thank goodness, I was saved by the dismissal bell. The kids charged out the door, ran down the hall popping balloons. The principal yelled, "Who gave you those balloons?"
I never confessed to handing out those balloons to the children. That was a lesson I would never forget. As long as I taught school, I never gave the students balloons again as a reward for good behavior.
This is a true story and I hope my blogger friends got a chuckle from this little story.
The second month, the second day
of twenty twenty two,
oh my, all those twos...
The groundhog crawls out
of his den to forecast the weather.
It's too early to predict
what the day will bring,
he sings a little song,
"Shall I see my shadow,
I'll flee from the meadow,
tuck in my home for
another little nap!"
--Brenda Kay Ledford
According to Mr. Groundhog, we'll have an early spring because it's very cloudy here in western North Carolina. I sure hope spring will come soon!
Whatever the weather, I hope all my blogger friends will have a Happy Groundhog Day!
According to the Pennsylvania Dutch superstition, if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on Groundhog Day and sees its shadow due to clear weather, it will retreat to its den, and winter will go on for six more weeks; if it does not see its shadow because of cloudiness, spring will arrive early.
is growing up so fast.
I want our special
moments to last forever.
I cherish the times we have shared.
Holding you in my arms as a baby girl,
Reagan's beautiful blue eyes sparkling
as she smiled at Aunt Brenda.
Our bond formed even then,
I recall your learning to ride a tricycle,
hosting a tea party for your Sesame Street friends,
splashing through mud puddles in your orange rain boots,
ballet dancing with pink bows in your blonde curls;
I think of you night and day and so proud
of the little lady you have become:
a smart, spunky first grader.
I savor all the fun we have,
you will always be my special Valentine!
Here in western North Carolina, we had a light dusting of snow on Monday morning. It was beautiful. The first snow always thrills me. Everything was so pretty covered with the snow: the trees, grass, power lines, and the snow-capped mountains. I know in many part of our country, the blizzards have caused miles and miles of stranded motorists and it's not been pleasant. But I love the cardinals perching on snow-covered branches.
I think cardinals are my favorite birds. Legend goes that cardinals are messengers from heaven, perhaps loved ones thinking of us. I don't know if this is true, but it's a good thought. It seems that when my sister and I talk each morning on the telephone, a redbird often appears outside my window and perches in the dogwood tree. It always makes me happy to see a cardinal outside my house.
This weekend I made a birdhouse. I really enjoyed constructing it. I painted it with bold colors and hung it on the front porch. Winter is a great time to do crafts and drink hot cocoa. I sure wish I had the gift of quilting like some of my blogger friends. My mama had the talent of quilting, but that is not my calling. Good thing the Lord has given us all different gifts. It would be a dull world if all of us were alike.
I wanted to share with my blogger friends a true story that our church family believes was a miracle. My pastor, his wife, two daughters, and two grandchildren crossed the mountains to Franklin, NC on New Year's Eve. After dinner at Shoneys, they headed home. The pastor was driving the truck and no traffic was coming. Suddenly, a big truck zoomed down the road, hit their truck and knocked the pastor and his family into a transfer truck! It totaled the pastor's vehicle, but no one was injured. Our pastor believes it was the hand of God protecting them because his entire family could have been killed. Our entire church is just so thankful no one was hurt. We think it's a miracle.
I hope that my blogger friends will have a happy and safe New Year!
Blessings,
Brenda
