Saturday, November 25, 2017

The Good Old Days

When you're a child, and you grow into your shoes, till you get a little wiser, and your mind begins to 'show' a little younger...you begin to appreciate at a whole nother level.

My Scottish/Welsh ancestors, settled in a lot of the hills and holler's...where I refer to them, 'lovingly', as 'hillbilly's'. They know things about those hills and holler's, hain't no man may know.

What I'm trying to say is, back yonder...many years, we 'rurals' knew a thing or two, and brought it with us, to this 'new land'. We brought a faith, from 'those good old days', and my dear dad used to sing about them.

There is more in their 'gospels' than you know, or than I truly realized...till recently. We may all, wish to thank...the country folk that hung onto their roots, and kept their secret council...never forgetting times gone by...


beyond the river, where they pray.

Amen!


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: go down to the river to pray, scene from Appalachia, google pic



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