By Jody Drake
A friend introduced me to her. She was a petite woman in her nineties who still wore the beauty she had been born with. Her stories were full of the realness of life that strikes humor in all of us. For too few Thursday mornings I sat at her feet, looking up into those sparkling eyes, enchanted with the stories she was telling. "I changed the names," she said, "to protect the innocent." When I asked who the innocent were, she replied, "Why, me, of course!"
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