When I was six years old I got the measles and was very sick.   For fourteen days, I had to lie in bed in my darkened bedroom and not get up, except to go to the bathroom.   Momma brought all my meals to me on a tray.   If any light got into my eyes, I might get blind, so I had to wear dark glasses and I couldn't play.   I was too sick to play anyway.   I had a very high fever and kept slipping in and out of sleep and having nightmares.

I heard Daddy say, "She's sicker than a dog."

That day I had a nightmare that I was a dog laying in my bed.   A dog's body and my head.

Grandma came every day and spent the afternoon reading to me.   She read the whole books of "Black Beauty", "Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates", and "Heidi".   Whenever I woke up, Grandma was sitting there beside my bed with a cool, wet cloth for my head, a cool drink of water and read until I went back to sleep.   She came every afternoon for fourteen days, until I got better.

One time when I was staying with Grandma, because Momma and Daddy were gone, I had a really bad sore throat.   I had a strep in it.   The doctor came out to Grandma's house and said I needed a penicillin shot.

I started crying and Grandma leaned down and took my hands in hers.

"Squeeze my hands real tight and sing your favorite song with me, "she said.

We started singing "You Are My Sunshine" together and I hardly felt that shot.

When I was eight years old, I cut the end of my finger off in the bathroom door.   When we got back from the hospital, after the doctor stitched it up, my Momma said a prayer that I would be able to sleep and it wouldn't hurt and keep me awake.

The next morning Grandma came to see me and cried when she saw my bandaged up finger.   She took me on her lap and sang to me.   She let me rest my arm against the side of her head so I could keep my finger elevated so it wouldn't throb.