I remember the days in the 50’s and 60’s when we left the door to the house unlocked all
the time and the keys were always in the car or truck. There was one lady in our neighborhood who had a mental disability who would walk the neighborhood occasionally and you might have gotten a visit from her. I smile when I think about Molly. Once I was sitting at the dining table talking with mom as she was preparing dinner when the screen door opens and Molly walks in. She says hey to us and we acknowledged her. She proceeded to the living room and sat down and watched the soap opera that was on not saying another word. Mom and I continued our conversation, because we knew that was about all we’d get out of her. After about a half hour or so, Molly would get up walk back to the door and says goodbye and we returned our goodbye and she walked on out and was gone. Never was there a word in between hello and goodbye. It was Molly. A kind unassuming soul who’s visits were felt, not telt.
Copyrighted Blog
Livin' Small by James Rowe is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at livinginsmallnc.wordpress.com.
Livin' Small 