Tiny True Tales
On Being A Hillbilly
You are: an unending, heartfelt ballad; elegant pottery molded from coal-speckled clay. A diamond, still in the making; a firefly twinkling in hillside hay.
You are: the perfect stitch that binds mamaw’s patchworks; a flowing creek made of papaw’s fiddled tears. A blooming dogwood in mama’s springtime dreams; an infinite line cast to snatch daddy’s fears.
You are: wrought by generations of determination, forged with the power to be. So remember, then, the blessings of your people — Montani Semper Liberi.
For hillbillies are always free.
— For Celina. May she always know “hillbilly’s” sweetness, and never its sting.
More Tiny True Tales: Here