Holy Ground

I showed up with three farm kids, a big yellow Labrador, and two five-gallon buckets of freshly picked green beans. No one batted an eye. Gram started dragging those old metal lawn chairs into the shade of the orchard east of the house. Everyone gathered. With instant Nestea in hand (containing enough sugar we almost chewed the tea), and willing hearts, the sisters, cousins, and aunts arranged the chairs into a circle.

Advertisement