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You were born in 1923 to Texas farmers.
You lived through the Great Depression, and eventually managed to get yourself into WWII as a nurse with your mother when you were 17 years old.
However, as the war progressed, there...
Somehow I felt immune to the danger of this place. As if the land and I had struck a deal.
I could pass unharmed so long as I loved it, and I did.
I loved everything about it.
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It was the afternoon in the middle of July in Texas. An awful combination for a 7 year old, walking her way back home from school.
About halfway home though, I noticed a black and white speck running full speed towards me, and when it got closer, I was relieved to find it was just father's old collie, Old Blue.
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He always waited for me at the house, but since it was hot and school got out a little later than normal, he had gotten impatient and went out looking for me.
As I started walking with Old Blue by my side though, I noticed how hard he was panting and remembered how thick his fur was.
It didn't take a genius to know that he was overheating and needed to cool off, so I immediately went off course of the road and started to lead him down towards the river.
The river ran parallel to the road and passed by the town and by the farm, so it was an obvious but dangerous choice.
When I reached the river bank, Old Blue immediately ran towards the water and started drinking and walking around in the shallow stream like he'd never had a drink of water before.
While he swam without me, I took off my school shoes and dress, leaving only my bodysuit pajamas that I wore under everything.
When I finally got the dress over my head I took off full sprint towards the water and jumped in with a canonball.
As soon as I hit the water, Old Blue came running over to me splashing and barking and wagging his tail.
After I swam back to the shore I grabbed a stick and threw it into the water to which he happily dove to get while I giggled and jumped in after him.
