The next conscious memory that I can place in chronological order occurs during the fall of the following year--that would be '66.. I know all of my sisters were there, but in my mind's eye I only see Felita and Beverly. Beverly was the one that was in Mother's belly while she was washing me in the Mississippi basin--that's not to imply the Mississippi River Basin. Yes, now there are five girls!
Back to the memory...We were in the cow pasture just east of the front yard, beneath the low hanging limbs of the aged trees in the pecan orchard--probably gathering the nuts for the upcoming holiday baking. Beverly, just more than a year old at this point in time, had soft curly locks surrounding a cute cherub-like face. She was wearing a stiffly starched, light blue, A-line jumper adorned with a colourful appliquéd choo-choo train just above the hem. I stood there watching, holding my breath, afraid she would fall as Felita released her hand allowing her to walk all on her own. There, beneath the pecan trees that day, I saw the first steps of a lifetime and gained a cherished memory that always brings a smile and sometimes a tear upon revisit. That was probably the last of the significant early memories.