| General Fiction posted December 8, 2020 |
  |
1,400 words. Mr. Little is back to help.
Miss Billie Part~3
by papa55mike
.JPG)
It's a warm, late November morning, and the wind is pushing the leaves to the North. Most of the trees are leafless, but the Oak's still have a grip on theirs. It seems to me that the bare trees look like ghostly skeletons swaying in the southern gusts.
Just meeting Miss Billie has had an indescribable effect on me. Her Godly wisdom and gentle ways have led me back to the Bible and forgiveness I never knew existed. Yes, I even went to church.
I've been to Wal-Mart again. This morning, I brought Miss Billie, two four-pound bags of sugar, coffee, several containers of salt and pepper, a couple of bottles of Frank's Hot Sauce, and some soul-seasoning. No southern kitchen should be without it.
Miss Billie was thrilled to get some coffee. She pulled out an old percolator that works on a stovetop and showed it to me. It reminded me of my Boy Scout campout days, fifty years ago.
The front door opens, and Miss Billie comes out with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands. She hands me one, then settles down in her rocker. The look of pure joy on her face is delightful. It's like Miss Billie has found a long lost friend. She inhales the rich aroma, studies the intense color of the divine liquid, then gently sips. Miss Billie sits back in her chair and says, "This is heavenly."
"Has it been a while since you've had a cup of coffee, Miss Billie?"
"Too many years! I was a three cup a day woman until the cupboard went dry. One cup should do me for today, or I'll be up all night." She sips her cup again. "It looks like a beautiful sunrise, Mr. Little."
Framed by several leafless trees, the horizon depicts many different brush strokes. Wispy clouds swirl together in the upper sky, painted with a delicate technique. A white sheet blankets the approaching gray storm clouds with a touch of pink on the edges. "The work of a master artist."
"What is it you do during the day, Mr. Little?" Her coffee is cooled a little, and Miss Billie takes a big gulp this time.
"Whatever the spirit moves me to do. My day usually consists of writing a little in the morning, working around the house, and if I'm lucky enough to take a few pictures, it's a great day. What do you work on during the day, Miss Billie?"
"It depends on the season; right now, I'm gathering all the wood I can find for the coming winter. It would make it much easier if I had a better saw. There's a large branch down at the edge of the field, and I've about picked it clean."
"Let me get my chain saw out of the truck, and I'll make short work of that limb. We'll get you a bunch of wood for the winter."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Well, I can't let you do it without breakfast." Miss Billie thinks hard for a moment. "I'll make us some Butternut Squash muffins. That sugar and salt you brought this morning will do just fine. There's a touch of cinnamon left."
"They sound delicious, Miss Billie. I'll get my saw from the truck."
An hour later, I've doubled her woodpile and have a lot more to bring up. There were two low hanging branches from that Oak, and I took them off with no problem.
With a load in my arms, Miss Billie calls from the porch. "Come and get it while it's hot!"
"I'll be right there." Dropping the load by the pile, I head to the porch with a spring in my step. It always feels good to help others.
I settle down in the rocker; Miss Billie hands me another steaming cup of coffee, and I take a muffin from the plate then take off my mask. It's my turn to savor the flavor. "These muffins are amazing! They remind me of pumpkin pie, but sweeter."
"To me, a Butternut Squash is one of the most versatile vegetables to plant. You can make anything from soup to bowls out of the hardened casing. I plant them every summer and have seeds drying in the window for next year."
"Is that a part of living off of the land, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, sir. Daddy would always save a quarter of his crop to plant for next year. He would also rotate his crops. One year of corn, then he would plant peanuts or black-eyed peas behind them. Corn always depletes the ground, and you need to follow it with a legume. We always loved the peanut harvest; Mama would have her huge pot over a blazing fire to boil the peanuts in brine. There's nothing like eating fresh boiled peanuts. Cracking them open without burning your fingers is the hard part."
"Was all of this knowledge passed down, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, it's been passed down since Genesis in the Bible. God showed Adam and Eve how to raise the herb of the field and to slaughter the lamb for sacrifice, meat, and clothes."
"I guess there's an answer for anything in the Bible."
"All you have to do is read it, Mr. Little. There's an answer to every problem, even for the time we live in now."
"That's been the problem; our country has turned its back on Biblical principles."
"Then, the only thing left is the Lord's judgment. It's what the Children of Israel did so many times. They would forget about all the wonderful things God did for them and turn to other gods - forcing His wrath upon themselves."
"That sounds like today. Well, I've had three of these delicious muffins, and now it's back to hauling wood."
"Let me put the dishes inside, and I'll be there to help."
We finally finished carrying the wood in from the field, including a stack right by the door. Miss Billie brought us two Mason jars full of water. It was surprisingly cold for no refrigerator. "Where do you get your water from, Miss Billie?"
"Daddy had a hand pump put in for the washroom. In case the electricity went out. I'm so glad he did."
"This water doesn't have all the chemicals in it we have in town." I drink the entire glass full. "So pure. I want you to know, Miss Billie, that you have a great life here. There are none of the complications that modern society deals with continually. We are a spoiled generation, only thinking about ourselves, which allows the Devil to run wild."
"If that's true, Mr. Little, I'm glad I don't know. My peace is too important to me. It's the peace that Jesus left with us in John 14:27. It's that I don't care; I pray for the world to find it daily. It doesn't sound like they have. Maybe, I will see Jesus return in my lifetime."
"If not, it might be in mine."
Miss Billie looks at the sky. "Mr. Little, I hate to ask you another favor. You've done so much for me. But this would put my mind at ease if you would."
"Anything, Miss Billie."
She turns back to me with tears rimming her eyes. "I know that I've lived most of my life. If you ever stop by to visit, and I've passed away. Would you make sure that they lay me to rest beside my Mama and Daddy at Old Shiloh? Besides the Lord, you may be the only person that knows I'm alive."
"Rest your weary mind, Miss Billie." I smile back at her. "It would be my honor to fill your request. Let's hope you don't outlive me."
"How old are you, Mr. Little?"
"I'm sixty-four. You do have thirty-three years on me."
"You just a young whippersnapper!"
"But you're a lot healthier than I am, Miss Billie. Too many cheeseburgers for me," we both chuckled.
"I remember those from Dairy Queen in Milan."
"It closed twenty years ago. I do miss their milkshakes. Well, I better get back to Milan and stir the pot. It's always a pleasure to spend time with you, Miss Billie."
"Same here, Mr. Little." What a lovely smile.
Walking down the road back to my truck, I think of the many blessings Miss Billie has brought into my life.
It's a warm, late November morning, and the wind is pushing the leaves to the North. Most of the trees are leafless, but the Oak's still have a grip on theirs. It seems to me that the bare trees look like ghostly skeletons swaying in the southern gusts.
Just meeting Miss Billie has had an indescribable effect on me. Her Godly wisdom and gentle ways have led me back to the Bible and forgiveness I never knew existed. Yes, I even went to church.
I've been to Wal-Mart again. This morning, I brought Miss Billie, two four-pound bags of sugar, coffee, several containers of salt and pepper, a couple of bottles of Frank's Hot Sauce, and some soul-seasoning. No southern kitchen should be without it.
Miss Billie was thrilled to get some coffee. She pulled out an old percolator that works on a stovetop and showed it to me. It reminded me of my Boy Scout campout days, fifty years ago.
The front door opens, and Miss Billie comes out with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands. She hands me one, then settles down in her rocker. The look of pure joy on her face is delightful. It's like Miss Billie has found a long lost friend. She inhales the rich aroma, studies the intense color of the divine liquid, then gently sips. Miss Billie sits back in her chair and says, "This is heavenly."
"Has it been a while since you've had a cup of coffee, Miss Billie?"
"Too many years! I was a three cup a day woman until the cupboard went dry. One cup should do me for today, or I'll be up all night." She sips her cup again. "It looks like a beautiful sunrise, Mr. Little."
Framed by several leafless trees, the horizon depicts many different brush strokes. Wispy clouds swirl together in the upper sky, painted with a delicate technique. A white sheet blankets the approaching gray storm clouds with a touch of pink on the edges. "The work of a master artist."
"What is it you do during the day, Mr. Little?" Her coffee is cooled a little, and Miss Billie takes a big gulp this time.
"Whatever the spirit moves me to do. My day usually consists of writing a little in the morning, working around the house, and if I'm lucky enough to take a few pictures, it's a great day. What do you work on during the day, Miss Billie?"
"It depends on the season; right now, I'm gathering all the wood I can find for the coming winter. It would make it much easier if I had a better saw. There's a large branch down at the edge of the field, and I've about picked it clean."
"Let me get my chain saw out of the truck, and I'll make short work of that limb. We'll get you a bunch of wood for the winter."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Well, I can't let you do it without breakfast." Miss Billie thinks hard for a moment. "I'll make us some Butternut Squash muffins. That sugar and salt you brought this morning will do just fine. There's a touch of cinnamon left."
"They sound delicious, Miss Billie. I'll get my saw from the truck."
An hour later, I've doubled her woodpile and have a lot more to bring up. There were two low hanging branches from that Oak, and I took them off with no problem.
With a load in my arms, Miss Billie calls from the porch. "Come and get it while it's hot!"
"I'll be right there." Dropping the load by the pile, I head to the porch with a spring in my step. It always feels good to help others.
I settle down in the rocker; Miss Billie hands me another steaming cup of coffee, and I take a muffin from the plate then take off my mask. It's my turn to savor the flavor. "These muffins are amazing! They remind me of pumpkin pie, but sweeter."
"To me, a Butternut Squash is one of the most versatile vegetables to plant. You can make anything from soup to bowls out of the hardened casing. I plant them every summer and have seeds drying in the window for next year."
"Is that a part of living off of the land, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, sir. Daddy would always save a quarter of his crop to plant for next year. He would also rotate his crops. One year of corn, then he would plant peanuts or black-eyed peas behind them. Corn always depletes the ground, and you need to follow it with a legume. We always loved the peanut harvest; Mama would have her huge pot over a blazing fire to boil the peanuts in brine. There's nothing like eating fresh boiled peanuts. Cracking them open without burning your fingers is the hard part."
"Was all of this knowledge passed down, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, it's been passed down since Genesis in the Bible. God showed Adam and Eve how to raise the herb of the field and to slaughter the lamb for sacrifice, meat, and clothes."
"I guess there's an answer for anything in the Bible."
"All you have to do is read it, Mr. Little. There's an answer to every problem, even for the time we live in now."
"That's been the problem; our country has turned its back on Biblical principles."
"Then, the only thing left is the Lord's judgment. It's what the Children of Israel did so many times. They would forget about all the wonderful things God did for them and turn to other gods - forcing His wrath upon themselves."
"That sounds like today. Well, I've had three of these delicious muffins, and now it's back to hauling wood."
"Let me put the dishes inside, and I'll be there to help."
We finally finished carrying the wood in from the field, including a stack right by the door. Miss Billie brought us two Mason jars full of water. It was surprisingly cold for no refrigerator. "Where do you get your water from, Miss Billie?"
"Daddy had a hand pump put in for the washroom. In case the electricity went out. I'm so glad he did."
"This water doesn't have all the chemicals in it we have in town." I drink the entire glass full. "So pure. I want you to know, Miss Billie, that you have a great life here. There are none of the complications that modern society deals with continually. We are a spoiled generation, only thinking about ourselves, which allows the Devil to run wild."
"If that's true, Mr. Little, I'm glad I don't know. My peace is too important to me. It's the peace that Jesus left with us in John 14:27. It's that I don't care; I pray for the world to find it daily. It doesn't sound like they have. Maybe, I will see Jesus return in my lifetime."
"If not, it might be in mine."
Miss Billie looks at the sky. "Mr. Little, I hate to ask you another favor. You've done so much for me. But this would put my mind at ease if you would."
"Anything, Miss Billie."
She turns back to me with tears rimming her eyes. "I know that I've lived most of my life. If you ever stop by to visit, and I've passed away. Would you make sure that they lay me to rest beside my Mama and Daddy at Old Shiloh? Besides the Lord, you may be the only person that knows I'm alive."
"Rest your weary mind, Miss Billie." I smile back at her. "It would be my honor to fill your request. Let's hope you don't outlive me."
"How old are you, Mr. Little?"
"I'm sixty-four. You do have thirty-three years on me."
"You just a young whippersnapper!"
"But you're a lot healthier than I am, Miss Billie. Too many cheeseburgers for me," we both chuckled.
"I remember those from Dairy Queen in Milan."
"It closed twenty years ago. I do miss their milkshakes. Well, I better get back to Milan and stir the pot. It's always a pleasure to spend time with you, Miss Billie."
"Same here, Mr. Little." What a lovely smile.
Walking down the road back to my truck, I think of the many blessings Miss Billie has brought into my life.
Just meeting Miss Billie has had an indescribable effect on me. Her Godly wisdom and gentle ways have led me back to the Bible and forgiveness I never knew existed. Yes, I even went to church.
I've been to Wal-Mart again. This morning, I brought Miss Billie, two four-pound bags of sugar, coffee, several containers of salt and pepper, a couple of bottles of Frank's Hot Sauce, and some soul-seasoning. No southern kitchen should be without it.
Miss Billie was thrilled to get some coffee. She pulled out an old percolator that works on a stovetop and showed it to me. It reminded me of my Boy Scout campout days, fifty years ago.
The front door opens, and Miss Billie comes out with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands. She hands me one, then settles down in her rocker. The look of pure joy on her face is delightful. It's like Miss Billie has found a long lost friend. She inhales the rich aroma, studies the intense color of the divine liquid, then gently sips. Miss Billie sits back in her chair and says, "This is heavenly."
"Has it been a while since you've had a cup of coffee, Miss Billie?"
"Too many years! I was a three cup a day woman until the cupboard went dry. One cup should do me for today, or I'll be up all night." She sips her cup again. "It looks like a beautiful sunrise, Mr. Little."
Framed by several leafless trees, the horizon depicts many different brush strokes. Wispy clouds swirl together in the upper sky, painted with a delicate technique. A white sheet blankets the approaching gray storm clouds with a touch of pink on the edges. "The work of a master artist."
"What is it you do during the day, Mr. Little?" Her coffee is cooled a little, and Miss Billie takes a big gulp this time.
"Whatever the spirit moves me to do. My day usually consists of writing a little in the morning, working around the house, and if I'm lucky enough to take a few pictures, it's a great day. What do you work on during the day, Miss Billie?"
"It depends on the season; right now, I'm gathering all the wood I can find for the coming winter. It would make it much easier if I had a better saw. There's a large branch down at the edge of the field, and I've about picked it clean."
"Let me get my chain saw out of the truck, and I'll make short work of that limb. We'll get you a bunch of wood for the winter."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Well, I can't let you do it without breakfast." Miss Billie thinks hard for a moment. "I'll make us some Butternut Squash muffins. That sugar and salt you brought this morning will do just fine. There's a touch of cinnamon left."
"They sound delicious, Miss Billie. I'll get my saw from the truck."
An hour later, I've doubled her woodpile and have a lot more to bring up. There were two low hanging branches from that Oak, and I took them off with no problem.
With a load in my arms, Miss Billie calls from the porch. "Come and get it while it's hot!"
"I'll be right there." Dropping the load by the pile, I head to the porch with a spring in my step. It always feels good to help others.
I settle down in the rocker; Miss Billie hands me another steaming cup of coffee, and I take a muffin from the plate then take off my mask. It's my turn to savor the flavor. "These muffins are amazing! They remind me of pumpkin pie, but sweeter."
"To me, a Butternut Squash is one of the most versatile vegetables to plant. You can make anything from soup to bowls out of the hardened casing. I plant them every summer and have seeds drying in the window for next year."
"Is that a part of living off of the land, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, sir. Daddy would always save a quarter of his crop to plant for next year. He would also rotate his crops. One year of corn, then he would plant peanuts or black-eyed peas behind them. Corn always depletes the ground, and you need to follow it with a legume. We always loved the peanut harvest; Mama would have her huge pot over a blazing fire to boil the peanuts in brine. There's nothing like eating fresh boiled peanuts. Cracking them open without burning your fingers is the hard part."
"Was all of this knowledge passed down, Miss Billie?"
"Yes, it's been passed down since Genesis in the Bible. God showed Adam and Eve how to raise the herb of the field and to slaughter the lamb for sacrifice, meat, and clothes."
"I guess there's an answer for anything in the Bible."
"All you have to do is read it, Mr. Little. There's an answer to every problem, even for the time we live in now."
"That's been the problem; our country has turned its back on Biblical principles."
"Then, the only thing left is the Lord's judgment. It's what the Children of Israel did so many times. They would forget about all the wonderful things God did for them and turn to other gods - forcing His wrath upon themselves."
"That sounds like today. Well, I've had three of these delicious muffins, and now it's back to hauling wood."
"Let me put the dishes inside, and I'll be there to help."
We finally finished carrying the wood in from the field, including a stack right by the door. Miss Billie brought us two Mason jars full of water. It was surprisingly cold for no refrigerator. "Where do you get your water from, Miss Billie?"
"Daddy had a hand pump put in for the washroom. In case the electricity went out. I'm so glad he did."
"This water doesn't have all the chemicals in it we have in town." I drink the entire glass full. "So pure. I want you to know, Miss Billie, that you have a great life here. There are none of the complications that modern society deals with continually. We are a spoiled generation, only thinking about ourselves, which allows the Devil to run wild."
"If that's true, Mr. Little, I'm glad I don't know. My peace is too important to me. It's the peace that Jesus left with us in John 14:27. It's that I don't care; I pray for the world to find it daily. It doesn't sound like they have. Maybe, I will see Jesus return in my lifetime."
"If not, it might be in mine."
Miss Billie looks at the sky. "Mr. Little, I hate to ask you another favor. You've done so much for me. But this would put my mind at ease if you would."
"Anything, Miss Billie."
She turns back to me with tears rimming her eyes. "I know that I've lived most of my life. If you ever stop by to visit, and I've passed away. Would you make sure that they lay me to rest beside my Mama and Daddy at Old Shiloh? Besides the Lord, you may be the only person that knows I'm alive."
"Rest your weary mind, Miss Billie." I smile back at her. "It would be my honor to fill your request. Let's hope you don't outlive me."
"How old are you, Mr. Little?"
"I'm sixty-four. You do have thirty-three years on me."
"You just a young whippersnapper!"
"But you're a lot healthier than I am, Miss Billie. Too many cheeseburgers for me," we both chuckled.
"I remember those from Dairy Queen in Milan."
"It closed twenty years ago. I do miss their milkshakes. Well, I better get back to Milan and stir the pot. It's always a pleasure to spend time with you, Miss Billie."
"Same here, Mr. Little." What a lovely smile.
Walking down the road back to my truck, I think of the many blessings Miss Billie has brought into my life.
 Recognized |
I took this picture the other day, and when I saw it on my computer, I knew where it was going.
Yes, I've changed the title to Miss Billie. It fits better.
There are many recipes for Butternut Squash Muffins at Allrecipes.com.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Yes, I've changed the title to Miss Billie. It fits better.
There are many recipes for Butternut Squash Muffins at Allrecipes.com.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
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