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Sunday, November 2, 2008
Home
This morning I woke up homesick. Sometimes I miss "back home" so badly. Throughout my childhood I hated "Bluegrass" music yet, I found myself listening to "Bluegrass" this morning. I've been sitting here listening to Vera Bradley Badge Id Holder twang of "Ricky Skaggs", among others. I know ultimately the day will come when I will go back home. I feel God currently has a mission for me to accomplish back there, as of current, I can't go back home, my destiny lies here within the North East where I have began numerous tasks with much unfinished business here.
Some of the many things I miss from back home is most definitely the Vera Bradley Wholesale Fabric It seems everyone from Harlan Ky can cook, doesn't matter who they are, they can Vera Bradley Duffle Bag Sale prepare awesome meals, where it's not the best food Vera Bradley Stores In Charlotte Nc the world for you in a "healthy" sense, I find this always makes for the best tasting. I also miss the people. "Harlan Countians" are the most proud group of people I have ever met in my life Vera Bradley Winter 2008 Patterns I have travelled the globe. Alot of people will say "Harlan County" is racist, I do not find "Harlan County" to be racist, they are just weary of all "outsiders". People have to understand that "Harlan County" is primarily made up of people who have fought for each and Vera Bradley Myspace Layout benefit they have, in a place which is a huge coal mining area, they have stood picket lines with guns, baseball bats, all in the hopes of providing a good life for their families. There have been documentaries constructed on where I'm from, country songs written, even a naval ship named the "USS Harlan County", I know where I'm from is a special place, I'm so proud to be a Harlan Countian.
People will say "Harlan Countians" are not tolerant of other religions. I remember when the Vera Bradley Large Duffel Sale Nuns came into our very town, they built a church and within days, it was destroyed, I believe someone burned it down. They built another church, same location, this time, it was badly vandalized. These Catholic Nuns didn't give up, they built another church and believe it or not, in the same location. I guess the locals decided if the Catholic Nuns were this Vera Bradley Orlando they deserved to have a church therefore, this one stayed.
I remember one of the particular Nuns, her name was Sister Mary. I didn't understand "Catholicism", all I wanted to do was wear her "hat". Sister Mary always refused to give it to me.
These poor nuns witnessed me growing up there in that coalmining town. They had to deal with my fiesty self more than once. I still remember Sister Mary patiently watching me rally the other "brownie" troops and walking out in protest due to the fact of having to pay the ten cent dues at Brownie meetings. Sister Mary negotiated with we children and vowed to lower the dues if we would just come back in and finish our cookies and koolaid.
These Catholic Nuns built a Fellowship Center for the community, which included basketball courts, a football field, they started "BoyScouts/GirlScouts" for our community. They even had sleepovers for the local children within the community. I can remember the "Sisters" loading all of we children into a van to transport all of us to a roller skating rink. The last time I saw Sister Mary was after the war back in 1991. I arrived at my childhood home at a very early hour, I didn't want to wake my family, therefore, I took myself to the fellowship center. The sun was rising and it was so beautiful, the fog was lifting up from the mountains, I just stood there and faced all my wonderful beautiful memories there, while standing there I Vera Bradley Pocket Book see myself playing basketball with all the boys on the basketball court and of course I could see Sister Mary running out and dragging me away informing me, "Little girls do not play with boys and more importantly, little girls do not hit little boys", I saw myself swinging on the swings, my, I loved those swings as a child, when I was swinging, nothing else in this world mattered, it was exhilarating and I always felt that if I swinged fast enough and high enough, my worries for that day would just go away.
Even as an adult I could not resist the urge to get myself into those swings. Here I was at six in the morning, in my Army uniform, swinging on those swings. I heard someone behind me after a few minutes of performing this, "Can I help you"? It was Sister Mary. My she had aged, but she still had those same piercing eyes, I always thought she was so beautiful. I stopped swinging and stood up. Sister Mary's worried face turned into a smiling one. I stated to her, "You can aid me by preventing overcharging on "brownie dues" and she burst our laughing, and then I ran to her and she hugged me.
When I go back home, one thing I love to do is wade the creeks. I love to take off my shoes and walk in the water, of course looking out for "crawldads" as we commonly have named them, for these can actually hurt if they latch onto your feet. Another favorite place of mine back home is a place I named "Big Rock". This was a place I retreated to as a child when I was scared or mad. I buried so many things up around this rock. I buried books, trinkets and believe it or not, I buried my favorite puppy there, the last time I visited "Big Rock", the headstone I made as a child is still there, of course the misspelled words have long gone. Sitting on "Big Rock" you can view the whole town, it's an awesome view, I miss that place.
I am plagued with memories this morning and could not resist the urge to write them down. I hope all of you are just as proud of where you are from as I am. I do not believe home is where you lay your head, I believe home is where your heart is, and my heart is definitely back in those Southeastern Mountains where the sunrises are so beautiful they take your breath away and where that fighting spirit that I gained as a child reigns still to this day.
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