Just a Girl from the Country

I was born and raised in the tiny, northwest Louisiana town of Sarepta. The population is under 1000 and my mother loved that fact.

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We didn’t have running water in our home until I was 12. We got our bath water, our water for cooking, our water for drinking from the well at the end of the road. We shared that well with several families and there was never any discord because even if we weren’t related by blood, we were family. That old well is still standing though it’s not in service.

The road leading to the house that I grew up in — the house that my mom built with her own two hands and only the help of my grandfather — was dirt. That meant that I was an expert mud cake maker and I loved playing in the rain. I spent far more time running around in my bare feet than I ever did in shoes. I almost always caught more light bugs than the rest of the kids as we ran around outside after dark.

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At the end of that dirt road, across from the well, was Thomasville School. It was the only school available for black children for a long, long time so it is where my mother attended. She had to leave school before she finished the 9th grade, but the education she gained from life afforded her far more knowledge than the books she longed to read from.

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Daddy loved fishing so that meant we spent a ridiculous amount of time on the bayou reeling them in. I can pull them in with the best of them. I still can. I know how to cast a reel and I know how to handle a pole. I’m not scared of worms and I have no fear of crickets. I’m just a girl from the country.

I’m simple. I don’t have to have the biggest house. I don’t have to have the grandest car. I do like really nice purses, but hey, everybody has their “thing”. Purses are mine. Anyway, I’m quite happy with a nice, little home. I’m good with a nice car that will get me from point A to point B. I intend to upgrade my wheels next year, but it will be something I can afford because material things don’t mean much in the end.

I fought coming back to Louisiana like a guerilla warrior. I didn’t want to come back here. I thought I needed the sights, sounds, and convenience of the city, but I’ve found that the quiet, the peace, and the solitude of good old Thomasville Road is good enough for me. 

My idea of the picture-perfect setting will be complete when I build my new home next year. I know Will is going to be off enjoying life on his own and living freely, but I’m okay with being in Sarepta. It took me a long time to reach this point because, in my mind, I was forced to return here. Little did I know it was a blessing in disguise. I love being a country girl.

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