My grown kids surprised me at Christmas. It was a wow moment, a tear-jerker, a really cool surprise. Y’all may remember that back during the summer, I told y’all about an awesome template that helps you to produce a very special biography. It’s called “Where I’m From.” I loved the exercise so much that I shared it with friends and family, immediate and extended, and did everything in my power to encourage everyone to sit down and compose their own. My enthusiastic efforts were met with minimal response, or so I thought. This Christmas our grown children presented their father and me with a frame containing their own “Where I’m From” poems. Tears were shed as it was read aloud. Word is the daughter had to hound the son to make it happen, but he did it, bless his heart. Phillip turned his homework in to Jessica just in time for her to print it, stick them in a frame and bring them to Louisiana. Right now, my sweet daughter-in-law, Carey, is taking over and converting the files into jpgs that will be screen printed on large canvases for the dining room. To say I’m excited about that is quite the understatement. I just had to share it with y’all! I hope you enjoy and it leads you to compose your own. From my daughter, Jessica Maher Tomlinson I am from mom’s home-made vanity, a daddy’s crafted dollhouse and small town backyard six flags. From two red lights, sinking cane poles and buckets of shucked corn. I am from cypress lined banks cut from rich delta farmland and the spills of harvest scattered alongside two lane roads. I am from a rusty old wooden swing and the climbing branches of a single sycamore tree, sweet honeysuckles hanging low and brick red shutters.  I am from steaming tins filled with tamales and pitchers of ice cold lemonade, from grease stained black hands and everyone stops for a story… I am from Rushings and Tomlinsons and from proud veterans, from quintessential belles and hard-working farmers. I am from Walters, Heaven’s Treasures, Larche Farms and All Things Southern. From Sunday church lunches and late night water checks. I am from the farmer waiting for the precious fruit of the earth-being patient, from never-ending oyster crackers, secret recipe trash and the sweet aroma of spiced tea. I am from a ragged dock, spinning tubes, oil soaked visqueen and talent shows. From a red brick Transylvania home filled with selfless love and giving and from dedicated coaches, a heart-pouring spiritual role-model and a silent steady man of God. I am from the last shot, the last ending, the last point and the last quarter. I am from the moments of one more game of horse, dove chocolate stained hands, heartbreaks, heartaches and survival. I am from I will always be your little girl and as long as I’m living my baby you’ll be. And my son, Phillip Tomlinson I am from a sleepy neighborhood where boys can be boys,…