I am happy.
I was happy when I was a boy.
We lived at the farm in Griffin. My mama was alive then, and oh, how she loved me. My uncles were there, and my aunts who lived with us. Uncle Thomas and Uncle William taught me to ride and shoot. My Uncle John lived nearby, with Hub and George, my cousins. We played in the fields and later hunted and walked. Hub was my best friend in those days and Thomas my favourite uncle. Sometimes my Uncle Robert's family would visit, from Jonesboro, with my dear Mattie, star of my childhood - and adulthood, for that matter. My Fitzgerald cousins had the nearby big house and school at Fayetteville. I nearly wrote recently about a Holliday party there, and unexpected kisses. They had beautiful parties and barbecues in summer. Ah, the fine ladies and gentlemen, the girls and the boys of those halcyone antebellum days. Summers were hot and winters were mild. My mama taught me and did good works for the poor and sick, and for the church. My mammy cared for me and, with my mama, taught me to be a young gentleman, like my uncles and the fine men about me. I learned to play piano, to sing, to dance. I learned to speak. And she taught me the rudiments of all the subjects I learned later at the Academy, when she had left me for Heaven. But this is a story of my earlier happiness. I was happy.
And now, though there were pleasures and great deeds and those worthy of love and loyalty in the darkness since then, and though I never thought to say it again:
I am happy.Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Word Count: 285
Please comment if you wish.
Nulli Virtute Secundus
æther radio: An Die Freude