My grandmother Winnie Chapman
Mizell was a big influence in my life. She had only sons and adored me as the
little girl she always wanted. She bought me perfect little outfits and baby
dolls. She took me shopping and to lunch on Columbia Road in downtown Bogalusa,
stopping to show me off to each friend we met along the way. Some of my best
memories are lying in her four-poster bed next to the long row of jalousie
windows. The attic fan cooled the hot, humid air, but also blasted us with the
signature Bogalusa paper mill smell. We would talk and talk like two
girlfriends!
Although I loved her dearly, her influence instilled
great fear into me, not only by her story of losing her five-year-old son in a
hit-and-run accident, but by the worry and negativism that this great loss left
her with. She warned me of how God would punish my parents and even cause
something to happen to me because of the way they lived their lives. Partly because
of this I struggled with trusting that God is good and loving. She taught me to
worry, but God has worked on that in my life. He is still working on me in that
area. If, before I die, you can see a change in me—more of the peace of God rather
than worry--then let that be my testimony.
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