And so it was to be, that Mary Louise was alone, her husband of just twelve years, gone before his time. She was only twenty-seven years old and had the look of a woman in her forties, but the mountain stamina was in her blood; she was a tigress when it came to protecting her children and doing for them. She didn't even have to ask, the two oldest boys now stepped forward to help in their father's stead and life went on, with love the common thread that held them all together.

But the small farm seemed to shrivel for a time, grief stifling the joy that had prevailed in the Brushy cabin and time seemed to stand still for them all. Little Lilly would ask occasionally where her daddy was and her brothers, or her sisters, would answer solemnly that he was in heaven. Lilly would ask if her kitten was with her daddy, and she was comforted when they told her yes.
She flourished and grew, slowly becoming the one who brought laughter back to Henry Brushy's family. Lilly was full of spunk, but more than that, she was filled with a love for life, that was unquenchable. She was a bright and shining star and the apple of her mama's eye.


"Hey there missy! Hey little Sweet Pea! Can ya go get yer brothers 'n sissy ta supper now?" Mary Louise Brushy was tired,