Which relative made you feel wanted and safe as a child? (Serendipity Bible 10th anniversary edition, page 1057).
Besides
my parents who don't count, my fondest memories are of our visits to
Aunt Estelle in Tuscaloosa, Alabama in the 1950's and early 60's.
Aunt Estelle was the widow of my father's brother, Rollin. She worked
downtown during the day and made it very clear that in her absence
her home (with its big front porch) was our home. She had a
welcoming, expansive character. She loved to call my father (whom
everyone else called Ed) “Edgar” with the first syllable (Ed)
spoken in a clipped low pitched voice and with the last syllable
spoken with a prolonged and stressed high-pitched emphasis
(garrrrr!). Her generosity was best epitomize by her meals.
Especially I remember her breakfasts. She prepared oodles of eggs,
grits, bacon, and toast. She made the toast en mass in the oven with
lots of butter and jars handy of strawberry jam. Her lunches were no
slouches either with large glasses of sweet iced tea and bowls
overflowing with fried okra with tomatoes. There have been few
people that I would like to flat-out imitate, and my Aunt Estelle was
one of them.
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