THE CRADLE OF MY SENSES
I woke up this morning in the cradle of my senses just as I woke up in the cradle of my mother’s arms on Saturday, March 28, 1942. Birds and a lively breeze were moving through the trees, light was pouring through our windows and the chattering of all my family angels, my kin, was there for me in my new home.
Everyone had stayed home from the fields this morning; my grandmother and aunts were in the kitchen planning a big dinner for later, the dogs were on the porch, and the mules were still in the barn with an extra day’s rest from pulling the plow.
It was a very happy, little family celebration, I had arrived.
Jack