NEWS FROM THE HILLS
Dear Cousin,
Blooming honeysuckle vines spread over the banks and cover the underbrush with sweet-scented yellow and white flowers, perfuming the air with the fragrance of summertime. The cinnamon tater vine is in bud, and its spicy perfume vies with the honeysuckle for sweetness. Blackberries are ripening fast, briers drooping with sweet, juicy fruit just begging to be picked. In the distance, the mountains stand in pleated layers, covered with blue mist that fades away into the distance.
It’s not the hills of West Virginia, but the mountains of North Carolina. Mimosa grows wild along the highway, and a tall crape myrtle tree flings bright pink blossoms toward the sky. Cottonwood trees grow here, with their green buds looking so much like hickory nuts. Vast pine forests march up and down the mountainsides, and the land is wild and beautiful.
Our youngest daughter, Crystal, lives in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains, and we have been here for a week. Daughter Patty and I made a hurried trip to Asheville on the day the C-section was scheduled, nervous and apprehensive. Her last pregnancy was full term, but a condition called placenta abrupto and a ruptured uterus snuffed out the life of her beautiful baby boy. It was a time of heartbreak and grieving for a tiny grandson who never had a chance to draw his first breath.
She was being wheeled into surgery just as we arrived, and her husband, Jeff, was permitted to go with her. Patty and I took the little girls, Alyssa and Brionna, and made our way to the waiting room.
After hours of waiting (it seemed hours, anyway), Jeff came bursting into the room to tell us that the baby was fine, and so was Crystal. (The doctor was prepared to do an emergency hysterectomy, if needed, but it wasn’t necessary.) We were ushered, girls and all, into a recovery room to see Crystal and meet little Mylie Nichole.
She weighed 6 pounds, 4 ounces, and was only 18 1/4 inches long. She really is beautiful, with a swirl of dark hair and a double chin.
I’ve never seen a better baby, and that’s not just grandmotherly pride. She eats and sleeps, and grows more beautiful every day.
The Lord has blessed us so abundantly. This grandchild is No. 22, and our great-grandchildren now reach five, with two more on the way. Our first great-grandson, Donavan Christian Kraft, had joined the ranks of the four little great-granddaughters.
Big families truly are a blessing. Back home, Alyssa and Brionna play with the flock of cousins who live in the Clay County hills. I can remember how dear my cousins were to me. They were an integral part of my childhood, almost as close as siblings, without the rivalry.
How blessed are children who can grow up in a country setting, surrounded by loving aunts and uncles, and cousins of all ages. There is always someone to wipe away a tear, apply a Band-Aid to a scraped knee and administer a healing hug. I wouldn’t trade the memories of my growing-up years in the country, and the nurturing touch of a large family, for anything in the world.
Summer simmers along, bringing another Fourth of July and the celebrations that go along with it. Behind the fireworks, parades and picnics, there should be a sense of thankfulness and sincere gratitude for our ancestors who stood firm and made our freedom possible.
America has fallen far short of the ideals and principles that our country was founded upon, and unless we return to the old paths of morality and dependence upon God, we will fall even farther. I am not ashamed to say that I love our country, and I love the godly precepts that were once our foundation. But I am ashamed of the depth of degradation into which we have fallen.
When the flag passes by, my heart will give a lurch and tears dim my eyes as I consider the cost of our freedom today. I will thank God for the many blessings that he has abundantly bestowed upon us, as a nation and as a family.
Tomorrow is uncertain and the future is unknown. Our hearts would fail us if it weren’t for the anchor to our soul — a complete and irrevocable trust in the Lord. He has brought us through the trials and troubles of the past, and will continue to lead us as long as we cling to his hand.
Love,
Alyce Faye
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