Sweeter than the Roses
Covered all over from head to toe
Covered all over with Sweet Violets"
I cannot hear this song, or smell the sweet scent of violets without thinking of my mother. Violets were her special symbol, chosen when she was a young girl. They were her Young Women's flower and painted on delicate china cups and saucers stored lovingly in her cedar chest with her wedding gown and treasures.
She was a pretty child and the darling of her family; the lone girl in a pack of boisterous brothers who alternately spoiled her or teased her mercilessly. And boy could they tease!
I have many warm memories of my mother, but I always like to think of her as the small girl whose unsteady little legs carried her and her tea set into Grandma's living room. And that memory is always accompanied by the scent of violets.
I wish to acknowledge my sister Lisa, who designed the little memory pages. She made each of the sisters a beautiful miniature scrapbook. So much love and effort was put into them. I will always treasure mine.