Angel of the Cove by Sandra Robbins Page B

sick this winter. Ain’t nothing worse than seein’ a child a-chokin’.”
    Anna closed the journal and jumped to her feet. “I’m ready. Let’s go now.”
    â€œWell hold your horses, missy. I ain’t as spry as I used to be.” She pointed toward the bedroom. “Go git your bonnet ’fore we go. I don’t want you to come back in with a freckled face ’cause you been out in the sun too long.”
    Anna ran to do as Granny said and hurried back to the kitchen where Granny waited with two large baskets in her hands. She held one out. “Take this here basket. We gonna need both of ’em.”
    Anna pushed the back door open and hopped down the steps to the yard. “How far are we going?”
    Granny chuckled. “Look in front of you, darlin’. We jest goin’ right behind the house.”
    Anna stared in wonder at the field that stretched from Granny’s henhouse toward the mountains. Red clover blooms dotted the area and waved in the breeze. It looked like a sea of red covered the field all the way to the base of the mountains in the distance. Why had she not noticed this before? Maybe because it was hard to take in all the beauty that surrounded her in the Cove. Each day she saw something different she hadn’t noticed before.
    The sight of the clover field and the mountains in the background took her breath away. “Granny, you’ve got the makings of your cough syrup right in your backyard. I wouldn’t have thought about it being so close.”
    Granny studied the field before her. “I learnt a long time ago God gives us lots of things we don’t see ’cause we’re too busy looking inthe wrong places. Sometimes He’s got a real blessing right under our noses.” Granny pointed to the blooms. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s us go pick us some clover.”
    The blossoms brushed against her legs as Anna stepped into the clover patch. Within minutes her basket was half full, and she straightened and stared into the distance. She’d often heard Uncle Charles speak of how the mountain folks used home remedies, but she’d never given a lot of thought to where they came from. In just a few days’ time she’d come to understand that these vast forests, fields, and mountainsides were covered in wild plants just waiting to be turned into drugs for easing pain.
    â€œGranny, did you say your mother taught you all about herbs and how to use them?”
    Granny nodded. “I reckon we jist kinda handed it down from one generation to another. I got me those books that are on the table in the front room, and I studied them a lot too. You need to read ’em while you’re here. They can tell you a lot.”
    â€œI will,” said Anna.
    Granny put her hands in the small of her back and stretched. “For hundreds of years people have been taking care of each other with the plants that grow all around them. God provides for His people in lots of ways, and He shore took care of the mountain folks when He put yarbs in these here hills.”
    â€œI want to learn everything you can teach me, Granny. I have so many questions you may get tired of answering.”
    â€œNaw, I won’t. Glad to oblige.”
    Anna grabbed another handful of clover and tossed it into her basket. “For instance—can you gather your herbs anytime in the year, or is there a special time for harvesting?”
    Granny shook her head but didn’t look up from picking the blossoms. “Oh, no, child. You gotta be careful ’bout when you git yore roots. February and March be the best time, right ’fore the sap begins to rise. Most of ’em ain’t no use after that. Some of ’em like sassafras and poke turn poisonous as they git bigger. Have to watch out for that.”
    â€œI’ll remember that if I can figure out what they look like.” Anna mulled over Granny’s words for a