My parents were newly married in January, 1930, and their first child, my brother Fred, was born in late October of that year. Nineteen months later another brother, Jimmy, was born. Then, a whole four years went by before I came along. My birth took place in a "shotgun" house, on the banks of Mile Branch (an historic creek, so named over a hundred years before due to its being a mile from the then-courthouse of the territory, which was the starting place for horseraces). My delivery was an in-home affair, with an old country doctor doing the honors. From these post-depression humble beginnings my parents gave their children unconditional love, tempered by appropriate discipline and role-models of honest, God-fearing/loving, simple country folk. Accordingly, thru the storms of my life, I've never felt alone because of the lessons we learned as we watched their faith at work. I was 9 years old before my daddy could scrape up enough money to buy money to even buy my mother a wedding ring. (She had used one worn by someone else in the family.) I never heard her say an unkind word about anyone, and both she and my dad were the most unselfish people I've ever known. We were poor in material things, but rich in our love for one another. It was a great shock to me when I found everyone was not raised in this way. I now own the land on which I was born, and it will be passed on to my daughter, and then to my 3 grandchildren. Thank God for staunch, unpretentious country folk, the backbone of our nation. Bonnie Farley Gary, Ms ************************************** See what's new at http://www.aol.com