These glasses I wear are not just for looks,
But they do hide the twinkle in my eye!
The grey in my hair was put there by God,
And I should be thankful, I guess.
They say these are the golden years;
Don't let them tarnish like brass!
By Alice Hensley Church
Sometimes I look in the mirror (not too often!) and wonder if I have someone else's body. My wrinkled arms feel strange, and what has happened to my face? My eyebrows seem to have fallen and are now growing on my upper lip. The force of gravity has pulled everything southward, and even my feet have aged.
The worst thing is my memory -- I've lost it somewhere in "these golden years." For example, as we journeyed home from church Sunday, we stopped at a little restaurant in Clendenin that caters to the church crowd. (Their food is very good!) I told Criss that I was going to put my purse in the back seat, as it was hard to carry along with my cane. He locked the car and we enjoyed our meal.
When we came back out, my purse was gone. Criss went back in the restaurant to see if I had left it in there, but no purse. I was certain I had placed it in the back seat but he had cracked the window slightly as it was so hot. The manager of the restaurant and Criss poked in every trash container for a city block, to see if someone might have discarded it there.
Then a young city policeman, R. Morgan, came by to record all the details. He was so polite and understanding -- I was quite impressed. He left his telephone number to I could check with him. On the way home, Criss asked if I could have left my purse in the church. "No," I replied emphatically. I am sure I put it in the back seat." "I heard you say that," he commented.
When we got home, I called a lady who lived by the church -- she was also a member. I knew she had a key. She called me back shortly and -- you guessed it -- my purse was under the pew. Criss made me call the city policeman and report that I had found my purse. (I felt like a dog -- he had stood in the hot sun for a long time writing up the report.) He did say that he would visit me when I had to be put away.
When a person is young, they never think of the golden years ahead. We better enjoy them while we can!
I have a couple of corrections to make: My sister Mary Ellen tells me that we didn't get fifty cents a gallon for blackberries -- it was 35 cents. And also, we did have screen doors, except they were ragged and patched, and the young'ens ran in and out so much that they let the flies in. (Thank you, Charlotte Neilan of Summersville for the song words.)
Contact Alyce Faye Bragg at alycef...@citlink.net or write to 2556 Summers Fork Road, Ovapa, WV 25164.