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In a small town in Mississippi there is a pot-bellied, wood/coal burning stove. If that stove could talk, what grand stories it would tell. One such story would be that of unconditional love and understanding. That which comes from my Grandmother, a lady who is now 113 years old! That pot-bellied stove (which I might add is no longer in use) was in my childhood like a solid rock. Getting up to go to school, finding it burning wood and coal, warming the entire room.

It would become hot and glow like a pair of comforting arms, that seem to indicate all is well, all is well with my soul. How I loved that stove and the warmth that emanated from it. That stove had seen many pass before it, such as my Grandmother's parents and their other children and most of all, my Grandfather. I realize today that I was so lucky to have a set of Grandparents that were there for me through all my scrapes and pains of growing up. Today I realize how significant that pot-bellied stove was in my life. When my Grandfather died I was so young, so unable to understand, yet I remember the times with him as if they were yesterday. That stove was replaced with a gas-burning heater. How, as a child, I wondered what would have happened if we kept the stove, would we also have been able to keep my Grandfather!? . He died of pneumonia, the year penicillin was discovered, so why did he have to die!? If only that stove could've talked, what lovely stories it would have told of the two most significant people in my life. I thank God for allowing me to have my Grandmother around to tell me the stories of her life with my Grandfather and provide the best comfort of all, that of a pair of Grandmother arms that are oh so comforting

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Last modified: May 01, 2008