"Granny, Granny! Tell me a story! Puh lease….." Little Lexy pulled at the old woman’s hem and climbed up the chair leg like some furry, scurrying critter up a tree. "Granny, won’t you please tell me a story?"

"Weeeelll chillldd…" the frail quivering voice lingered, "I always liked thems magic mornins, thems were always mmyy favorites." Her boney hand patted Lexy on the head. Gran Tilly had hordes of children who loved to sit in her lap; she was their ancient mother. "Dear, why don’t ya come and sit by yur yungin’ an me. Or don’t cha already know all about the magic mornins?" her shakey voice sounded like a fairy’s song.

As the old woman spoke, her words kept a slow, steady time. She drew her words out long like pull candy. Her pitch rose and sunk like the rolling hills of the hollar back home. Her’s was a voice you could hear in your ears for a lifetime, so full of love that it refuses to leave you.

When you are invited to sit by the old woman, there is this sense of obligation to do so…but admiration forces you to listen. You make the time for her because time was no longer her friend, and because she is everyone’s mother. A small stool was close by and I slid onto it, wiggling to find the comfort.

"What ‘sa magic mornin’ Gran?" The dialog was familiar. All of her children beg for her love, they shower in it. Only a child knows the special ways to entice a story out of the woman.

"Weellll…." Her voice rolled and waved, "Magic mornins are just that!"

"Oh Gran Tilly, what are they like?"

"I’va seen a many of thems in my years. You always know yurs a getten a gift from the Gods when a magic morning comes…" the old crone trailed off. Little Lexy’s big green eyes gazed at her with anticipation. Her skin is thin, soft, and wrinkled from ancient time. "I learned many years ago when a magic mornin’ was a comin’. The night before all the stars in the sky are bright, as if they come a closer to the hollar to see the magic with their own eyes. And thick clouds of water come from your mouth while the crisp air makes the spinies on your neck stand on end." The old woman’s fingers walked up Lexy’s nape into her hair making the girl giggle and brush at her head.

"I’ve seen the stars come close before Granny, at camp last summer!" Lexy popped her thumb into her mouth and picked at the old woman’s robe.

"If ya’ get up early enough you’ll see the show darlin’. That cold air ‘ell leave a layer of frost across the land. Big Mama called it the ‘fuzz.’ It ain’t a normal kinda frost, it’s magical." The words rolled off of her tongue as they always had.

"What’s it look like?" Lexy mumbled, her thumb still laying lightly on her tongue, "How do ya’ know frost from the fuzzzzz?"

"Weeelllll…." Her worn down chest raised and sunk, "It used to happen in the spring, close to the Salvation. Now they been a comin’ earlier and earlier, when spring forgets its still winter out." The old woman’s tired eyes gazed out the window, "It’s as if the whole hollars a hotter now."

"Gran!" a little voice whined, "the fuuuuzzzzzz!"

"Oh yes. It looks like fresh snow. At first glance thems clover fields look to be a blanketed. But then you’ll a notice it. As the sun climbs high in the heavens, you’ll know it’s not snow. ‘Cause you cain’t see the small details of nature in the snow. Each blade of the cream grass, each leaf of the clover, even the veins of the trees show in all their glory under the fuzz. Look close on magic monins, you never know what’chall see."

Lexy rested her head against the old woman’s whithered chest and both of them breathed together as one. Lexy’s eyes rolled upword to look upon Gran Tilly’s lips as they moved; the little girl smiled, her teeth hidden somewhere behind her thumb.

"As the sun climbs you see the cloud. It rests over the land and even makes heaven jealous. All you can see is layers of white. Only the palest of blue can be seen if you look straight up. Those pale blue waters of heaven will eventually break up the magic. But if yur a lucky one, you’ll geta few bright hours in the beauty. The warm rays o’the sun brightens the air for ya’. And it casts such a glow, like Angels are a frolickin’ in the fuzz fields."

The little girl couldn’t keep her head against the old woman’s chest. She squirmed a little, looked lost in thought, and finally spoke. "Granny, does beauty like that really come to the hollar?"

"Why yes honey. I know here in the city the hollar seems so far away for ya’ lil’ Lexy. You miss out on all the beautiful days in the hollar…but my favorites are the magic mornins. Yes thems are my favorites." The old woman kept talking in her sweet, maternal voice to Alexandria as I went for her coffee.

* * * * *

"What kinda gifts do the Gods give Granny?"

"Well…." the infamous word resonated from deep within the old woman. "You never really know what the Gods will shower upon those lucky enough to see the Angels a dancin’ in the fuzz. Sometimes that’s the gift itself."

"Did ‘ja ever get presents? I just love presents!!" The excitement of Christmas morning was masked in the child’s voice.

"Sometimes. One of them magic mornins came on one of my birthdays. Back when countin’ my years was becomin’ burdensome. Your Pap was a yungin’ then, though he thought he was a man. God Almighty blessed him that day. And when a man gets blessed by the Holy Father, he’s safe in all he does for the rest of his days. That’s how I know yur Pap is okay over there on the other side of the world."

Lil’ Lexy’s eyes gleamed with the mention of her father. Gran Tilly was never wrong and in the eyes of the child, the old woman was the wisest in the land. I guess you could say anyone who knew her thought the same.

"Daddy was blessed?" I felt the fire in my heart. "Oh please please, pretty please tell me how God blessed him!?" I couldn’t bear the though of getting her hopes up, or mine for hat matter. It’s sure not easy to stop Tilly once she’s telling a story, but false hope is something Alexandria simply didn’t need right now.

As I began to object, I felt the old woman’s hand pat my knee and a smile looking at me. A wave of comfort made me hush.

"My grandson was still yung then, but well on the path to manhood. It was at one of my parties you children put on. Back then I still had friends a breathin’ and some of thems were there. Us old women were sittin’ round a great bush down in the hollar that mornin’ as the sun burnt away the white cloud. We were a doin’ what all old ladies do, we were a gabbin’."

Lexy’s eyes were fixed on the old woman. The child wouldn’t have moved if Santa himself walked through the door with Rudolph trailing in his steps.

"It was still early in the day. The yungins were all in the crick catchin’ crawdaddies. Lil’ Wes was tormentin’ Kaye with one a pretendin’ he was a gonna put it in her braids. She came a runnin and snifflin and plopped herself on my knee just like you sit here now."

"Well, what’s Aunt Kaye and Uncle Wes gotta do with Daddy being blessed Granny?"

"Nuthin’ I suspect. Yur Pap saw all the commotion and come over to cheer Miss Kaye up with a daisy. He sat down on the ground and chit-chatted while I re-worked the girlies frazzled braids."

"Daddy gave me a daisy before he left. Momma and me smashed it in our family Bible."

"Don’t ‘ja now honey? He likes to give pretty girls daisies when they need a cheerin up."

"That don’t make him blessed though!?!" The old woman would stray off topic and let Alexandria bring her back to the the tale. It kept the girls voice active. I could never tell if the old woman was testing the children or simply just her mind straying with the conversation.

I can only imgine how easy it is to get lost in all those ancient memories.

"Child…You sure don’t miss a beat! Well there we were, Gurtie, Ruth, Eleanor and myself with Kaye on my knee. Gurtie kept hearin’ somethin’ in that bush a rustlin’ round. We were all a tryin’ to guess at what was makin’ all the racket.

"It was about that time that yur Pap stood up in front of that bush. You should have seen it girlie. The fog was floating round the bush and Ruth swore there was a glow comin through that white cloud. "Yur Pap stretched out his arms, one hand pointin’ to the east and the other to the west. Slowly, one by one, four cardinals emerged out o’that awesome bush. We all sat there a flabbergasted as each of those red birds hopped up on yur Pap’s hand.

"Oh they were beautiful. Two of them were as bright red as the berries of that very bush. The other two were creamy brown with cute orange beaks.

"If us old widders weren’t in awe how it was, one of the little brown girlies started singin’ the sweetest song. Yur Pap he brought his arms to his chest and rubbed each o’their heads, which hushed the little girlies song when his thumb came to her. Then yur Pap pulled a mealie from his pocket and she gulped it right down, as if she trusted whole heartedly in yur Pap.

"Bout then he turned back ‘round to face the bush, the four birds chirping as he moved. One stretched his red wing and hopped back on a twisted branch. The other three followed that red one until they all disappeared into the dark green.

"The fog had lifted, the glow was gone. But that little brown girlie kept a singin’ from deep within for the rest o’the day.

"Yur Pap, he then took up lil’ Kaye’s hand and led her back to the crick. I think I saw him keep her from a fallin’ on the slippery slate that was always a covered in mosssss." The ‘s’ sound trickled over her tongue through her teeth as cold water flows over slimmey rocks.

The old woman pulled her arms back, resting her tired hand on her lap. Alexandria was wrapped in the old mother’s arms, loosely but lovingly.

The child sucked her thumb for a moment while she puzzled on how exactly her father was blessed. Her innocent thoughts pictured a lambish image of her father letting four cardinals sit on his hands, hop on his arm, sing in his ear….

She could hear the melody of the orange beaked fowl ringing in her own ears.

The corners of her smiled pulled upwards, tightening her lips, her babyteeth peaked through, and popping her thumb out she wiped the slobber on her dress.

She suddenly threw her arms around the old woman and smacked her pink lips against the frail cheek.

"Thank you Gran Tilly. Your stories always make me smile." With that the child was off to the playroom to find her newest doll.

The old woman was satisfied.

I sat there in silence, wrapped in the illuminating love that oozed from her pores. Tears fell off my cheek as I myself pictured the image of his rifle outstrectched from his fatigued covered arms.

"Are ya’ alright dear?" I felt her boney fingers rest on my knee, the worry was in her grey eyes as it was in mine. "Dear, he’s not the first of the children that Uncle Sam has carried away from us. But he’ll come home safe to us. They all do. My boys were raised to come back home."

In my mind I remembered the folded flag in the three sided box on the mantel and my heart knew her memory had failed her.

"Yes Granny, they all always come home to the hollar." escaped from my mouth stalely.

"Not just the hollar dear. He’ll come a home to you and to Lil’ Lexy." The old woman sunk back into her chair, sliding into the imprint her body had created over the years. I too sat back into the silence.

"Granny, Granny" the stomping of little feet could be heard racing down the hall. "Won’t ya’ come and teach me how to make your peanut butter fluff roll… Puh lease…."

The tweeter of her song echoed through our home as her winged feet carried her into the kitchen.

March 4, 2005