Aunt Ila has always been close to my heart. She made homemade bread and strawberry jam and pickles and homemade sausage. Oh, and she had a lap. lol

She asked me once when I was young why I loved her and I said because she had a nice lap. Guess I should tell you I am known for blurting out the truth.

Aunt Ila raised six kids the old-fashioned way, by working. Her husband was a coal miner like my Dad. I would stop in at aunt Ilas and she would always offer me coffee, bread and jelly, soon to be followed by a meal. God bless her. Life flows out of her. She makes a room light up even now that she's in her eighties.

She makes quilts too, wonderful quilts and gives them to others. Sewn in the quilts, I know, is love. That's in the strawberry jam, too. Everything she does now overflows with love.

As I write this I smile with love for her. She will be busy in heaven, I know, probably a hostess serving coffee and homemade bread.

Aunt Ila, I love you.

By Brier (



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