"She Was An Angel in Jeans and a Turtleneck"

Today's guest post in our "Honoring Martha" series comes from Shannon Fallon. To learn more about this series, and to find out how you can contribute, click here. We would love to hear from everyone who has fond memories of Grandma. The sooner you can send in your response, the better.

Thank you! Love, ~Stacie

When faced with the idea of consolidating all of my wonderful memoirs of grandma, it's a task that is nearly as impossible as roping the moon. She was like small-morsels of magical star dust that all came together to make a GLEAMING body of awesomeness.

She was a angel in jeans and a turtleneck.

The road this angel walked down may have been back-woods, down home and dirt covered, but what was more important was how she walked that old road, as an heir to her Father's throne. 

Her hands may have been scented by Clorox and speckled with garden dirt, but the lives she touched with them were dramatically changed, as if the hand of God himself had anointed them.

But what made this little woman so important to me, was her spirit. 

She never gave up, never gave in and never stopped loving. She took what God had given her and like a good steward, multiplied it.

She knew what had to be done and did it, no questions asked, no mumbling or groaning.

No job was too small or insignificant, especially, the job of "rock picker of the garden", of such a title, that I myself held more than once.

She was never to busy to stop her adult conversation at the table to answer a silly question of one of the grandkids.

She was never too adult to not help up us catch fireflies on a dark summer night, in little random glass jars, of which she lovingly punctured holes in the lids for each and every grandchild.

She was brave enough to kill a snake for trying to swallow a frog, yet human enough to hop on a chair when a mouse ran across her kitchen.

She was childish enough to pick up a grasshopper while on a walk, and say "spit tar or I'll squash ya" and it obeyed.

She was gentle enough to run string along our faces to make us sleepy on a Saturday night.

She was mischievous enough  to walk through a posted, abandoned house on the hollow, because she simply wanted to know what it looked like.

She was dedicated enough to make sure our Friday nights consisted of that good ol' chocolate sauce that froze solid when it hit our vanilla ice cream.

She was adventurous enough to convert an egg crate foam mattress on her front porch into a 5-star hotel room, regardless if we made it through the night.

But above all, she was efficient enough to have done this all in one life-time.

Blessed may have been the life that this little, persistent lady lived, but more blessed are the generations that are yet to come, who will know of my Grandma Ormsbee and all of her wonderful wisdom.

I, for one am proud to stand and say that I am a product of Martha's Legacy of Love.

Me too Shannon! Thanks for taking the time to write this. It is very beautiful! Love, Stacie