…cuz his hands are now full, with a gal made to grasp the horns of the bull.
A woman of spirit, ahead of her time, she cut her curls short 60 years before mine.
To Christ she came laughing, handed over her debt, said “He took the cussin, gamblin, drinkin, but never the cigarette.”
To Aunt Natalie… God’s own spitfire.
The cloth from which my own spirit was cut – gone to be with her Father but on earth never forgotten.
I’m sorry for your loss, but grateful for the new angel.
Thank you for stopping by. You’ve been missed! She will be also.
I love the expression on her face…you can see the spitfire in her eyes! I’m sorry for your loss.