The Rose that grows beyond the fence Tradition of sharing continues
The year was 1959. For five years I had lived in Needmore on what is now Finley Beech Road. This early morning I made up my mind I was going to go up the alley to the area known as “the cut.” It was about a half block from me. I was going to visit Mrs. Sally Crawley, known as mother Crawley. She was the widow of the late Rev. Lewis Crawley, a Presbyterian minister. Mother Crawly lived in a setting that said “home” and “welcome.” Her house was not a big brick bungalow, just a simple siding home. Her yard was adorned with flowers. I especially loved her miniature pink rose bushes; they kinda covered the fence. Her grandchildren and their friends would visit and talk with her. Back then, the porch was a place to meet. Everybody enjoyed the porch. Mrs. Crawley sat on her porch and brought joy to others. She loved her flowers.
Mary Ewing Community Storyteller
In 1960, Mrs. Crawley gave me a cutting of her miniature pink rose bush. I was so excited that day. I had always loved looking at her rose bushes bloom each year. She also gave me some bulbs of her miniature Iris. I still have mother Crawley’s roses blooming in my yard today. When I think of Mrs. Crawley and others who shared their Needmore flowers with me, it reminds me of them even though a lot of them are no longer with us. I look out and watch the plants they gave me grow, bloom, die and the next year come back. I am reminded of the rose that still grows beyond my fence. Mrs. Crawley, I am told, worked hard to make a living. She milked cows, sold milk and butter, washed and ironed clothes for the wealthy. Mother Crawley did not sit out in the porch dressed in finer; she sat in her cotton dresses with her braids, but the young people gave her respect
same as if she was a queen. Today we seee a lot of new additions coming to Needmore. As new subdivisions develop and grow, I remember there was once all kinds of beautiful wild flowers growing there, beautiful blooming trees, walking paths through rock and bushes. Many of those who lived in the area years ago have moved away. Mrs. Crawley’s home location has a new home on it now. A new family lives there; a father, mother and four lovely boys. The yard is adorned with new flowers. New memories are being made there each day. The old memories are preserved in the rosebush that grows beyond my fence. Recently, I shared a cutting from my miniature rosebush with Mrs. Crawley’s granddaughter, Jacqueline Crawford. Now Mrs. Crawley’s roses can bloom beyond another fence. Americana 65