Prologue
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| Happiness Is Dandelions In The Imagination Of A Child |
The imagination of a child is never realized fully till old age creeps in to get the better of your mind. It’s then, that all the fantasies of your youth in some respects become an unbearable pain to deal with. The truth that you let it dwindle away without one second thought is enough to drive your sanity to the lie of self-destruction as the fantasies themselves become void . . .
Picture this, a little girl in her brothers worn out blue jeans who dances to no music, her jeans become an evening gown and the shadow she dances with becomes her knight in shining armor. The room she dances in, even though so very small, becomes her very own ballroom with many guests to greet . . .
But as the year’s pass her by, the imagination is clouded and her heart demands more than just her day dreaming. Her fantasies were not enough and that caused her much heartache and she soon forgets how to be content within her heart with what she can have or already has. She outgrew her fantasy world and lost her soul to pain and sorrow. Remember this little girl because she becomes the grown up that is called Debbie Clifton . . .
I have a lot in common with that little girl. I didn’t pretend that I was in an evening gown and I never danced with shadows. I was a full-fledged tomboy. I didn't ware dresses unless I had to and I liked to do all things that boys like to do. I lived in a small country town on a three hundred acre working farm. I had all the land I wanted to run loose on and act out all my fantasies. The farm had a share cropper who worked the land. His name was Mr. Albert Sullivan his wife was Antilee Sullivan but to me they were Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. They had eight children one of which was Lula May. She was my age and then there was James Ray he was younger than we were. That is who my play mates were. I spent all my spare time in their house or playing with them on any given site on the farm. I was out of my house from dawn to dusk because my parents were so caught up in life’s worries that I thought that I really didn't matter. That is why I would go be in Mr. Sullivan’s house to lose that feeling that nobody cared where I was because they treated my like family. If I acted out or did anything wrong he would whip me or worse tell momma or daddy and they would ground me for a week or so from going to their house and that was awful cause I felt loved by Mr. And Mrs. Sullivan, I felt the care that I didn't get at home . . .
My home life was far from being a good one, don’t get me wrong, we had it better financially than Mr. Sullivan’s family but I learned at a very young age that money was not always what made a house a home. Needless to say I would rather be at their house than mine. I felt safe there, I also found the love they shared a thing that I would never forget. Oh yeah did I mention that Mr. Sullivan’s family was black? That was in the 1956 when blacks were treated like they were second class citizens . . .
That made no sense to me for they were a very loving and God like family. Back then the had their own drinking fountains and rest rooms and went to their own school. My momma would go get books out of the library in town for Mr. Sullivan because they didn't let blacks check out books at that time. He was a well-respected man in the black community as well as the white . His nick name was Preacher because he was a deacon in his church, so that what momma called him . . .
So read on my friends and buckle up and get ready for the most diverse book you've ever will read . . .
But as the year’s pass her by, the imagination is clouded and her heart demands more than just her day dreaming. Her fantasies were not enough and that caused her much heartache and she soon forgets how to be content within her heart with what she can have or already has. She outgrew her fantasy world and lost her soul to pain and sorrow. Remember this little girl because she becomes the grown up that is called Debbie Clifton . . .
I have a lot in common with that little girl. I didn’t pretend that I was in an evening gown and I never danced with shadows. I was a full-fledged tomboy. I didn't ware dresses unless I had to and I liked to do all things that boys like to do. I lived in a small country town on a three hundred acre working farm. I had all the land I wanted to run loose on and act out all my fantasies. The farm had a share cropper who worked the land. His name was Mr. Albert Sullivan his wife was Antilee Sullivan but to me they were Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. They had eight children one of which was Lula May. She was my age and then there was James Ray he was younger than we were. That is who my play mates were. I spent all my spare time in their house or playing with them on any given site on the farm. I was out of my house from dawn to dusk because my parents were so caught up in life’s worries that I thought that I really didn't matter. That is why I would go be in Mr. Sullivan’s house to lose that feeling that nobody cared where I was because they treated my like family. If I acted out or did anything wrong he would whip me or worse tell momma or daddy and they would ground me for a week or so from going to their house and that was awful cause I felt loved by Mr. And Mrs. Sullivan, I felt the care that I didn't get at home . . .
My home life was far from being a good one, don’t get me wrong, we had it better financially than Mr. Sullivan’s family but I learned at a very young age that money was not always what made a house a home. Needless to say I would rather be at their house than mine. I felt safe there, I also found the love they shared a thing that I would never forget. Oh yeah did I mention that Mr. Sullivan’s family was black? That was in the 1956 when blacks were treated like they were second class citizens . . .
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| WHY |
This is a preview of what this book is about, history events, stories as well as just tall tells and lots of life, things that I saw or things that happened to me in my life. If you don't like one chapter go to the next I know that you can find a few things that you will like . . .
So read on my friends and buckle up and get ready for the most diverse book you've ever will read . . .