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.