My Mother is a remarkable women in so many ways, it’s hard to begin any place but the beginning. She was born on an early December morning that held a promise of so much fun and excitement as the fifth and it turned out final child of Francis and Ennis Swint.
Fannie, as they called Francis, was not doing well and had what was called blood poisoning. The baby was born early and neither were expected to make it. So, my mother was named Little Fannie as the expected death did not warrant a real name.
It wasn’t until some years later that she did find out upon need of an original birth certificate for a passport, that she was not Fannie Beth as she was called or her original intended name Nancy Carol. She was Little Fannie, officially and as well.
So, when she opened her small little B&B she named it Little Fannie’s. As her business grew so the name grew and finally landed as Little Fannie’s Country Retreat. And so it is written on her monument, among here kith and kin, and next to her beloved Father where her body lays.
She is not there. Her soul is living where her lord and savior is. No discussion can be had about Mother without Jesus. You may think, I(we) are about to paint a picture of this saintly women whom is the model of perfection. Perhaps and I know she is now. However, while here on Earth she endured the toils of her mistakes and with laughter, hope, faith and prayer. Lots of Prayer.