Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Hello Friends,

I've written a short story I would like to share with you.  The idea came to me one warm, sunny afternoon in a coffee shop during my lunch break while I enjoyed a nice cup of ice coffee.  I do love ice coffee, even in the winter time.  I hope you enjoy and please, feel free to drop me a line a let me know if you enjoyed it or not.
Thanks for reading my blog!


            “Hi, Granny.”  Melinda Jacobs called out when she opened her car door with all the energy she could muster.  It was only Wednesday and she were already tired to the bone from working long hours at a demanding job.  The more long hours she worked the further behind she became in her house chores and her pursuing her love of writing.  “I apologize I wasn’t able to come by Sunday.  I had to work.”
            “Hey Puddin.”  Melinda’s seventy-eight-year-old grandmother answered coming towards her.  “I hate you missed it.  I cooked your favorite and a pecan pie too.”
            Granny called all her grandchildren Puddin’.  It were a custom in her culture all grandkids had nicknames with no indication of their favorite food, drink, sports or etcetera.  The tradition is suspected to have begun before the Civil War to prevent the Confederate Soldiers from drafting young boys to work on the fort down on the coast.  The county census held the child’s birth name.  The prevention of revealing who the boys really were remained in only the use of their nicknames. 
            “Did you save me a slice?”  Melinda stooped down gave her grandmother a hung.
            “Honey chil’ you know I did.  I baked two pies.”  Granny smiled and winked.  “I hid one in the pie safe when your mother said you couldn’t come.”  Granny turned to walk back to her flower garden of roses.
            “Thank you, Granny.”  Melinda wrapped her arm around her Grandmother’s shoulder, taking slow steps as they walked together.  “Your roses are looking great this year Granny.  Have you done anything special to them?”
            “No.  Not really.  Just some loving care here and there.”  Granny leaned down to smell a perfect bold, red bloom of a rose called, Hoochie Coochie.  “Tell me about your new job, Puddin?”
            “Not much to tell Granny. It’s corporate America.  I work when they say work or I don’t have a job.”  Melinda hunched her shoulders.  “The pay and benefits are good, however, the hours are not.”
            “That’s not good.  What about the Lord’s day?” Granny moved to the next rose bush and began to inspect the leaves and the blooms.
            “Work doesn’t begin on Sunday’s until 4 pm.  That’s why I didn’t come Sunday.  I would have been late for work if I had driven here and tried to drive back.”
            Granny nodded her head.  “I understand Puddin.  There have been many times in my life were I’ve questioned why things were done the way they were.”  Granny reached inside her handmade apron, retrieved a pair of tiny scissors and cut a closed bud of a pink rose.  With wrinkled, knotted fingers from years of hard manual labor, she cut the thorns from the flower stem.  “I know times have changed for you young folks Puddin.  I know its harder now than ever to make ends meet.  Always remember one thing is for sure.  There is a time and place for all things. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven, #Ecclesiastes 3:1.   Don’t ever forget the Lord God, the Sabbath and always keep His day holy.  You may have to work on the Lord’s Day.  That doesn’t mean you can’t still get down on your knees and thank God for what you do have.” 
Granny motioned for Melinda to come closer to her.  Granny reached up and placed the rose behind her ear.  “Now, that’s a fine rose for my fine looking granddaughter.”  Granny turned toward the back door of her humble home.  “Come on Puddin’.  You look pale underneath your eyes.  I bet you haven’t had a decent mouthful to eat since you started working.”  Granny stopped and turned back to Melinda.  “Come on now, times a wasting.” 
            “Coming, Granny.”  Melinda forced her tired limbs to move.  Granny was right.  No matter what, she would continue to praise God.  For it was God who woke her every morning, gave her a job to go to, kept a roof over her head, shoes on her feet, clothes on her back and food on her table. If not for God, she didn’t know where she would be.  

Tuesday, January 1, 2019


#HappyNewYear from me to you!  Where has the year gone?  One day I was taking photos for my Memorial Day post and the next thing I know it's #2019! 

I am compelled to explain my absence from my blog and all my social media in the past seven months.  For the ones who have read my first book, 'A Sister's Love', the main character Flo moves to New York City to take care of her niece and nephew.  While there, she takes interest in the well-being of a teenage boy, Daniel.  This past summer, I got the opportunity to experience opening my home and my heart to a teenager and an infant.  Talk about a major life change!  Although, my youngest son is 19 the mother instinct kicked right in gear whenever the little one woke in the middle of the night.  I never grumbled when I woke to fetch a bottle, changed a diaper, nor rocked the baby and myself back to sleep at 2 am.  My attitude has been I'm blessed to have had the opportunity God has given me.  Too often we get caught up in being inconvenienced, we overlook the opportunity that God is preparing us for a blessing. 

Although there were times, I chastised myself for not finding the time to write and/or blog, I now understand God had a bigger plan that included life lessons for me.  The past couple of years, I have been so consumed with studying the craft of writing and trying to learn what potential literary agents would be interested in reading in my manuscripts, I lost focus on what was more important: my love for writing and telling my stories.  So what if I don't properly introduce the hero and heroine on the first page?  What's the big deal about showing instead of telling and so what if my characters don't have a concise goal-motivated-conflict?  The way I write (my voice) is totally different from all other authors and rightly it should be.  My focus for the upcoming year is to complete to manuscripts I've been working on and to continue to ask God for guidance in all that I do.  He hasn't failed me yet. 

In spite of my once routine life getting all shook up, I had the opportunity to speak with a lady from my hometown, Becky Barfield who sings in a gospel group, FOREVER CHANGED.  Based out of Lexington, SC, the members of Forever Changed are from Lexington, SC; Woodruff, SC, and as far away as Pigeon Forge, TN.

Sharing God's love through music, Becky told me about visiting a church and after the singing, a man walked up and introduced himself, 'my name is Jimmy'.  Becky described how the wife broke down in tears.  Jimmy had dementia and he hadn't known his name in a very, long time.

On other instances, Becky recounted how visitors would introduce themselves after the singing and express how they felt close to their loved ones who had passed.

As I drove home from my church the last time Forever Changed visited, I reflected on the message I received from their song worship and I were reminded of this Bible verse: 
          1 Corinthians 2:12 Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of                                           God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God. 

Until next time, I wish everyone a blessed Happy New Year and a wonderful week! 


Hello Friends, I've written a short story I would like to share with you.  The idea came to me one warm, sunny afternoon in a co...