The Willow Tree
by
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Maybelle with smooth caramel colored skin, was brazen. When she talks, she purrs. One day, when it was hot outside, she went over to Blue‘s house.
“Uncle Blue, I made a dress and new pantaloons. Tell me what you think of them,” she purred as she twirled around and raised up her dress.
“Mighty nice Maybelle. Mighty nice. Girl, has anybody told you, when you speak, you sound just like a kitty,” Blue said.
“Yes, all the time. I like it,” she purred.
She began to dance, tossing her hair all around her face, as she moved her body to the music in her mind.
“The dress is stuck to my hair Blue,” she said frantically as she began to cry.
“Simmer down, girl. I’ll help you,” Blue said as he turned her around to find the problem.
“Now see, dry those tears. It’s nothing. Just your pretty hair wrapped around a button,” he said as he unwrapped the lock of hair.
Just as Eliza entered the living room with lemonade, Maybelle turned around and kissed Blue on the lips.
“Thanks Blue. I’m going to show my new dress and pantaloons to Aunt Betsy. Bye Eliza,” she said as she ran out the door.
A couple of days later, Blue decided to chop down some trees. Eliza just happen to look out the window when she saw Maybelle run across the yard in the direction Blue said he was going. As he worked, Maybelle watched him. It was early in the morning. After about three hours, Eliza brought him some breakfast.
“Blue you have worked very hard this morning. Why don’t we take the little ones to the lake,” she said as she smiled at Maybelle.
Maybelle smiled.
“That’s a wonderful idea. The little ones will love it,” he said as he sat on the ground with his food in his hand.
“Hattie said they are doing well in school. They work really hard. We have some very smart children. A couple are willful and want their way but their coming along,” Eliza said.
“Hattie does a good job with them. I worry it may be too much for her.”
“She loves it. Maybelle I didn’t know you were here when I began to fix Blue some breakfast. Would you like some, dear?” Eliza asked.
“No,” she said
Walking in front of Maybelle, Eliza said, “Maybelle, you must learn to sit properly in front of a man. The way you’re sitting, you’re exposing your dirty pantaloons.”
“See, they are clean. I need to get home,” Maybelle said as she showed Blue her dingy but clean pantaloons.
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About the Book
The Willow Tree is about a young girl, raised by
Christian parents, whose name is Bette Jean, but is called BJ. She lives in a
fictitious town called Bluesvilles, Tennessee. The story is narrated by her at
a very low point in her life. She goes to college in New York, obtains a well
paying job, marries well and life is very good. The past, however, comes back
with a vengeance, possibly changing her life forever. She learns many lessons
but the most important one is, no matter how high you go up in society, or how
low to the bottom you go, there is a Sovereign Lord who is a sure anchor, any
time or any place. Your parents can’t promise to be there for eternity. Your
friends may not be with you when you‘re crying in the midnight hour. Associates
may turn against you at a moments notice, but Our Sovereign Lord is always
there.
About the Author
In the years 2000 and 2001, I was nominated as Poet
of the year, by the International Poet Society, in Maine. Through the society,
I have poems in their anthology book called, Quick Silver Moon.
In the same years, I had the honor of being
nominated as poet of the year by the Famous Poets Society, in Oregon.
My goals are many but I would like to see one of my
fictional novels become a movie. I also am interested in writing screenplays.
I am in the process of writing a childrens book.
I am in the process of recording a CD with the poem,
My Mother Prayed for Me. This will be out in time for Mother's Day,
2003. A copy can be purchased through KMA Records256 E. Old Hickory Blvd.
Madison, Tn. 37115 phone number 615-612-3899
I enjoy encouraging children and adults to follow
their dreams. We as adults are bombarded with the rushes of life. Our dreams
are placed on a dark shelf in the corners of our mind. Those dreams appear to
be dark clouds, unreachable. Never give up. You may tire out but never give up.