by Brenda S Brown

Created on: March 12, 2010   Last Updated: March 13, 2010

Her name was Lorene Johnson Woody, she was born at the turn of the century and lived in and around Webster County, Georgia, for nearly seventy years. She was the mother of six surviving children, two stillborn babies, and one who died during early infancy. I knew her well because she was the maternal grandmother of my husband Otto and was affectionately called Mother Woody. 

When I first met my husband’s maternal grandparents, they lived in a small house at the edge of a family-owned pecan orchard. They lived a simple life, and as the elder couple of the family, they tended to keep to themselves. Poppa Woody was proud that he was kin to mountain-folks.     

Lorene never pursued a profession outside the home, rarely left the house except to visit a neighbor, attend Sunday church services or an occasional funeral, and she baked fantastic-tasting cathead biscuit. She had no problem being known as a homemaker; in fact, she took pride in nurturing her family. She did not curse, swear, or even speak unkindly about her neighbors. She enjoyed the pleasantries of life in the country, and minded her business. 

Their house in no way resembled a palace; however, visitors were treated like royalty. The iced tea was as sweet as mounds of sugar could make it, and the perked coffee was strong enough to awaken the departed. Cool drinks of water from the well off the back porch, or on occasion fresh, sweet milk, were the only other liquid refreshments available.    

The massive wood stove was darkened from years of constant use and preparing meals fit for a king. One of our favorite offerings was collard greens seasoned with hog jowls and served with a slab of crackling cornbread.  Fresh vegetables were grown out back and chickens roamed freely around the yard. There was always good food warming on the back of the stove and everyone knew to help themselves. 

Each bedroom contained several bedsteads because there always seemed to be an endless supply of children, grandchildren, and relatives who needed a place to stay, and where better than with Mother and Poppa Woody?  She did not complain about company, no matter how long they stayed, and to our knowledge, never asked anyone to leave. 

Come sit a spell on the porch and rest your weary bones, she invited. It's comfortable here, and you are as welcome as a summer rain. I will always believe that a simple life is a happy one. 

Learn more about this author, Brenda S Brown.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.