My grandmother was born in small town Piedmont Alabama in 1940. She grew up on a small cotton farm. She was the only one of eleven to graduate high school. She got married at 17 and had three children. When her youngest son was just a small baby she watched her husband accidentaly kill her baby brother in a gun mishap. Two weeks later her husband died from a fatal combination of alocohol and medication given to him for "shock" after the accident. Her family shunned her for the death of her brother and her husband's family shunned her for the death of her brother. She was a single woman in the early 60's with no job experience and no where to go and not a soul in this world to turn to. She got a job at the local sewing factory and did odd and end jobs in the community.
My mother told me that she never complained. That growing up as a little girl she never knew how hard her mother had it because she always woke them with a smile and tuicked them in with prayers of thanks. My grandmother is the hardest working woman I know. She is almost 70 and works all night staying with an elderly lady, helps manage their trailor park, keeps a full flower garden, cooks, cleans, is raising her 9 year old adopted grandson, and waits on my Paw Paw hand and foot. She can run circles around me at family functions tending the children and preparing the meal. She is a christian lady who is an active member in her church, and she coaches little league baseball.
Within the last couple of years she has lost half of her brothers and sisters to death, and last year she lost her youngest daughter. She faces every day with a past full of sorrow and strife, yet she still faces everyday with a smile. I have so much respect for her that I can only aspire to be as hardworking, motivated, and self sacrifcing as she is.
Heather
