In the dimming shadows of the depths of my mind, I recall Aunt Ollie Little. She was a very pleasant and proper lady of color, who on occasion served as our nanny and often looked after us younger children while Momma worked in the fields.

She and her husband, Sam, lived in our house before we moved into it. Her, Sam and their family lived about a mile distant from our house. I don’t recall any money ever changing hands between my Momma and Aunt Ollie. She worked for scraps of cloth (to make quilt tops), old clothes and an occasional visit to our garden or can house.

We had eight fireplaces in our house, which we used for heat. Aunt Ollie often used them for cooking when not trying to keep us kids from throwing things into or falling into the fire.

I do not remember my exact age, but I was still in diapers. As little kids often do, I had

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