I am from...

I am from the silence and beauty of the country, from the
home grown tomatoes, crisp cucumbers, and fresh rhubarb pie.

I am from the old farm house lived in by my past family
members, with the cut stone and the hand dug basement.

I am from the Pawpaw trees, the Black Eyed Susan’s, the
fields of summer hay, and the quiet creeks.

I am from gardening and canning, from my mom’s blue eyes and
my dad’s brown hair, from Ernestine’s love of teaching and Delbert’s summer hay
season, Norma’s ham sandwiches and Rufus’s cactus collection.

I am from love, hard work, and knowledge. From a country
life full of walks in the woods, summers nights catching lightning bugs and
star gazing, and clean water from a hand dug well.

From the muddy waters of a duck pond, chasing chickens,
catching frogs with my little brother, and imagination.

I am from the small town stained glass old brick church on
the corner of Jasper Street.

I am from up a gravel road of an old street car stop, where
the Thorne’s from the top and the Wilson’s from the bottom came together in the
middle to work the land and make it their own.

From the Heck family reunions with the teal and pink shirts,
the fun at Mum mum and Pap pap Heck’s building forts and playing football, and the hours
of swinging on the swing set and playing in the play house at my Grandma Moore’s.

I am from the front porch of old family photos, the barn in
the background, the enlistment papers of family into the Civil War, the
carvings of names in the old trees. I am from the Home Place where I call home.

I could not ask for more.