Grandma Freeman was my mother’s mother, Jessie Freeman. She was from the hills around Neosho, Missouri. She was about five feet one inch tall and weighed all of ninety pounds. She married Grandpa Freeman and moved to Oklahoma. They were dirt farmers. They lost it all during the Dust Bowl and Depression and moved West to California in the 1930’s. They had five children consisting of two sons, my mother and her two sisters.
After living in California for many years their children became adults, married and had children of their own and grandchildren. Grandma was always busy working in the fields picking fruit, cotton, oranges, or whatever…or at home cooking, sewing, fixing… She was tough, busy and spunky.
Both of her sons went off to war, my Uncle John to World II and Uncle Art to Korea. Other uncles and cousins also went to war. The rest of the family, including all my family, was involved in many dangerous sports, dangerous types of work and being crazy and not always real careful.
One Thanksgiving we were all gathered at Grandma’s and there was a house full… nearly everyone was present. All of sudden Grandma became sober and teary eyed. When asked what was wrong she said, “Look at this miracle…everybody here still has all their fingers, toes, eyes, hands, ears, legs, nobody is paralyzed, crippled or diseased…it’s a miracle.”
She was truly right…you just need to know our family to know the extent of the miracle. Grandma died at 95.
“I did one work, and you all marvel at it.” Jesus