Sometimes I'd like to be a little girl again.
I'd like to sit at my grandmother's table and eat her Sunday leftovers. I'd marvel that she knew how to cook all that. We'd tell jokes and laugh. Then at the end, she'd bring out her hidden stash of cookies and chocolates.
Yeah, sometimes I'd like to be a little girl again.
I'd like to be a little girl again. I'd like to hear my grandfather sing one of the old hymns, his rich voice resonating through the hallway, his fingers snapping the time. I'd like to hear the rumble of his TV in the back room as it played some unknown baseball game. I'd like to see him go out the green door to do the laundry. And then later Granny would lay it all out over the blue chair to fold.
I'd like to be a little girl again. I'd like to put up the Christmas tree. Granny would want everything evenly spaced. If you placed a decoration on the left, then you had to place one on the right. I'd like to hear her tell the stories of where she purchased each one. Granddaddy would try to correct her, but somehow she was always right. Then we'd pull out the candelabra with it's orange and green light bulbs and place it in the window. Somehow it was never Christmas without that candelabra.
I'd like to be a little girl again...at Eastertime. There'd be flowery dresses and new shoes. Granny would make her famous cake, all covered in frosting and coconut, a green nest of jelly beans...eggs...on the top. We'd eat ham and green beans, rolls, all sorts of good things. There'd be Easter eggs to find, cousins to see.
I'd like to be a little girl again.
I'd like to be a little girl again. I'd like to stand in Pop-Pop's field and wonder at how large the fruits and vegetables were. He'd be there stooped over a bucket, a farm implement in his hand. Or perhaps he'd be on the old tractor, slowly driving down each aisle. The hot sun would strike on the shoulders of his plaid shirt, as he continued with his task.
I'd like to be a little girl again sitting at his table. He and Granny would provide an abundance of good things, all from the field - greens, strawberries, and the ever present platter of sliced tomatoes. I'd like to be the little girl I once was, my head bowed in prayer, hearing his voice thanking God again for the "bounty we have all received".
I'd like to be a little girl again, but sadly, I am not. Not a day goes by that I don't miss these four people, whose unconditional love for me was just always there. They gave of themselves without my asking and created wonderful, joyous memories to cherish.
I'd LIKE to be that little girl again, a little girl at a time with few responsibilities, with abandon roaming the woods, admiring the birds, picking the flowers. I'd climb trees, or run across the field, or hang over the railing at the bridge and simply watch the water trail by. I'd walk my dog down to the canal and hunt for my cat, always hidden somewhere amongst the leaves. I'd just live, because things were good, happy, and at peace.
I'd like to be a little girl again...knowing there are those who care for me. A little girl whose grandparents were sometimes her entire world.
I'd like to be a little girl. But wait! What did Jesus say? "Except ye...become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3) And again, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." (Hebrews 13:5) Here is a marvelous thought! I am God's child, and He is always here with me. He loves me unconditionally. He has promised to provide for me, to supply my every need. He wants me to be happy, healthy, and free!
But even better yet, my grandparents are there, there with Him, and they still love me. I will see them all someday. In God's eyes and in theirs, I am still a little girl. I am loved, and I am blessed....always.
Suzanne Williams Photography
Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.
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