The Wise Woman With The Country Scarf Paula Day Johns February 18,2003
Read at Thelma Vickers Johns’ Funeral When you looked into her soft brown eyes, there was a knowing look that brought surprise. She was not a woman that held contemporary matters worth a cent, she was from a different era but knew what life really meant. In her younger days it was work that gave meaning to her life, tilling the soil, milking the cow, away from global problems of trouble and strife. It was a narrow world for her, this woman of the field, nothing was more important than Enoch and cooking him a meal. Bah! she would say to glitter and glitz, and no one could orchestrate a more passionate fit! When her fit was on, we would all back away! She could carry on and leave us nothing to say. But when the fit was over and she had settled down, she’d say “you want some eggs before you go back to town?” Many a morning when the dew was still on the ground, she would harvest her strawberries and beam at what she had found. Then off to the barn to milk her dear cow, making cream for our