When I first met Aunt Jean it was the spring of 1992. She is one of the nicest, kindest, caring people I have ever met.
During one of our visits, she told me a story of when she was young.
There was a rope swing in front of her home and she would sit there for hours and daydream of her future, watch the clouds form pictures, listen to the birds chirp, and gaze at the beauty that surrounded her.
As I sit on the porch at the Spiker farm, I imagine Aunt Jean as a young girl swinging and daydreaming and, like her, gaze at the beauty that God has created.