Resting Time

My maternal grandmother Mattie Greer loved people and she liked doing special things for others. She loved flowers, the outdoors, and animals. Mama Greer married and raised a family during the early part of the 20th century in a rural, almost primitive setting, now known as Greer’s Mountain in Peachtree City. She was a very hard worker, often working in the field from dawn until sundown.

I looked forward to visiting her, for she always made it a special occasion. The farm had no electricity, no telephone, and no inside plumbing ... miles from town ... and yet she always had something special to give me. She would look for pretty rocks in the field and would save them just for me. I remember having so many rocks that I had no place to put them.

My father was an insurance agent with Gulf Life and went to Atlanta each week to make a money deposit with his company. On one occasion, my grandmother rode to Atlanta with him to do some shopping. On their way back home, my father stopped to buy gas. In those days gas stations were quite different. Gas was pumped by hand and usually by the owner who always checked the oil stick and wiped the windows. This particular station was very neat . There was a bed of flowers planted around the gas pumps, and my grandmother got out of the car to admire them more closely.

The station attendant noticed her and thought she was being hesitant about asking where the restroom was, he politely said, “Lady, the restroom is located on the side of the station.”

“Lord, Child,” she responded, “ I don’t have time to rest. I have sick folks at home.”

My grandfather had been ill for a few days.