Stella By Starlight
Stella By Starlight
Paperback
Also available on Amazon
Summary
In the middle of fifth grade, the girl who would grow up to be my Grandma Estelle, was forced to leave school forever so she could help on the family farm. It broke her heart, but not her spirit. No one knew it at the time, but she would sneak out each night after everyone was asleep, and write in a journal she kept hidden under the steps.
Many, many years later, when she was a grandmother, and it was I who was in the fifth grade, she told me her secret. We used to spend summers with her in North Carolina—in the same house my dad grew up in. Roosters crowed at dawn. Our breakfast milk came warm from the cow, our eggs fresh from the chicken’s nests. I remember hot apple pie, cold watermelon slices, and sugar sweet tea. And the stories. After the sun faded into darkness, and fireflies blinked in the yard, everyone would gather on Grandma Estelle’s porch and listen to the old folks tell tales—funny memories, harsh realities, family treasures, and sometimes big fat whoppers.
It was here that the fictional town of Bumblebee, North Carolina was born. Based loosely on the real community, it was a place where families depended on each other for support. Celebrations, funerals, difficulties and triumphs were all shared because they were more than neighbors—they were like family to each other.
When my grandmother passed away in 1983, I was given the only one of her journals that survived—it is one of my greatest treasures. Grandma Estelle, at age ten, could not know it, but she would become my muse, my spirit guide--to write and create and dream. She is my Stella by Starlight.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my father, Vick D. Mills.
He is my hero and will forever have my heart.
I promised him so long ago that I would write this story.
I wrote this for you, Daddy.
I’m sorry it took so long.
As a boy, he walked those dusty North Carolina roads, exulted in the beauty of the land, and basked in the love of his mother, Estelle.
He feasted on her homegrown, home-cooked meals, as well as her wisdom.
He also listened to the stories of the elders, grew strong from the love of family and community, and learned to face with dignity the sometimes harsh realities of life.
So this book is also dedicated to my grandmother, Estelle Twitty Mills Davis.
She lived from 1905 to 1983.
She, too, listened to the elders and learned to survive pain.
Her life was not always easy, and she struggled with many things.
But she loved her children and she passed her strength along to them.
And she kept her memories in that journal.
So this is Estelle’s tale and Vick’s tale combined.
It is a gift of love.
