This is a picture of my mom, Alma Johnson McCoy
and her cousin, Tressie Neal Barnett. Mom is the one
with the dark hair. They were about 5 when this picture
was made. Today would have been my mom's 102 birthday.
When I was about this age I would never have believed
that my mom was once a little girl. That thought inspired
the following poem. All little girls do not grow up to be
mamas, but all mamas were once little girls
I have reposted this from July 5, 2011
LITTLE GIRLS GROW UP TO BE MAMAS
Little girls grow up
To be mamas... it's true
And never think that their mamas
Were once little girls too.
They think mamas
Come full grown and wise
And could never, ever,
Have been their size.
Mamas could never had dollies,
Gone dancing, been young and carefree.
They just see family circle
And that is where mamas should be.
Then when they're all grown-up
And still on their mamas depend,
They see her as someone eternal
And that it somehow will not end.
One day they stand at the grave-side
And wonder how time slipped away
And little girls grow up to be mamas,
And mamas will leave you one day!
Freda Fullerton
July 5, 2013
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