WHERE IM FROM

by Nancy Jones

I am from the cozy scarves and aviator sunglasses, from Sorel snow boots and discount
flip-flops.
I am from porch swings and squeaky wooden floors, from a hillside neighborhood and
Forth of July barbecues.
I am from both the Magnolia blossoms and the Ponderosa pines, the catfish and the trout,
from the bayous and the mountain ranges.
I am from gumbo dinners when it snows, Beulah Rexine and Nancy Ruth, from McLeods
and Wetherbees, from the adventurous and compassionate, freckles and wit.
I am from the wordsmiths, from those addicted to Scrabble and openly correcting
grammar.
From Uncle Duanes secret sourdough pancake recipe and the constant warning of
snakes, both animal, and human.
I am from Assembly of God Pentecostals, saved by the blood of the Lamb and redeemed
by the grace for which I do not deserve.
I am from Cajun country and Cascade County, from proud Englishmen and frugal
Scotsmen, from spicy jambalaya and grass-fed steak and potatoes.
From the man with the childhood nickname Possum, from the parents who moved their
family across the country in obedience to Gods call, from the blessings that followed.
I am from Grammas mantle, the hallway walls covered in generations, from the albums
and shoeboxes filled with memories and treasures.
I am proud of where Im from.