Precious Memories

my brother, Mark, and me
1961

"You will be able to tell wonderful stories to your children and grandchildren about the marvelous things I am doing." (Exodus 10:2)

"You and Uncle Mark have so many stories," Rebecca said. "Mama, you should write a book about your childhood."

My brothers, Rocky and Mark, and I grew up in the 1960s. Our house hung (and still does) on the bluff of Lookout Mountain overlooking the sleepy town of Fort Payne, Alabama. 

Hot summer days were spent playing barefooted in the woods and summer evenings, catching lightning bugs under a rising moon. Windows were always open because we had no air conditioner. Every night, a noisy frog-and-cricket choir sang us to sleep. 

Thank You, Lord Jesus, for sweet, precious memories. Help us live today making precious memories for tomorrows.

Precious father, loving mother

Fly across the lonely years

And old home scenes of my childhood

In fond memory appear.

Precious memories how they linger

How they ever flood my soul

In the stillness, of the midnight

Precious sacred scenes unfold. 1

1 PRECIOUS MEMORIES. Traditional gospel song by J. B. Wright. 1925.