![]() Up until now I've never paid much attention to them, but now I don't know. With a serious look on his face, Papa said, "These hills are full of legends. "Grandma told me the story, and I believe it, too." Mama smiled and asked, "Have you heard the legend?" "Don't touch it, Mama," my oldest sister whispered. In an awed voice, she said, "All my life I've wanted to see one. She walked over and very tenderly started fingering the long red leaves. I heard her say, almost in a whisper, "Oh-h-h-h, it's a red fern-a sacred red fern." Staring wide-eyed, Mama gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Look!" I said, pointing at the red fern. "What is it, Billy?" Mama asked, in a scared voice. Close behind her came Papa and my sisters. Holding her long skirt in her hand and with a frightened look on her face, Mama came puffing up the hillside. ![]() "I'm all right, Mama," I shouted, "but hurry. In a frightened voice, she shouted back, "What is it, Billy? Are you all right?" "Come here! And hurry! You won't believe it." Remembering the meaning of the legend, I turned and started hollering for Mama. The story went on to say that only an angel could plant the seeds of a red fern, and that they never died where one grew, that spot was sacred. In the spring, when they were found, a beautiful red fern had grown up between their two bodies. How a little Indian boy and girl were lost in a blizzard and had frozen to death. I had heard the old Indian legend about the red fern. It was fully two feet tall and its long red leaves had reached out in rainbow arches curved over the graves of my dogs. There between the graves, a beautiful red fern had sprung up from the rich mountain soil. When I walked up close enough to see what it was, I sucked in a mouthful of air and stopped. i took out my knife, intending to cut it down. It made me angry to think that an old bush would dare grow so close to the graves. It looked like a wild bush had grown up and practically covered the two little mounds. Nearing the graves, I saw something different. "Papa, would you mind waiting a few minutes?" I asked. He was in high spirits as we carried the furniture out to our wagon.Īfter the last item was stored in the wagon, Papa helped Mama to the spring seat and we were ready to go. He didn't have that whipped look on his face any more. She had a glow in her eyes I had never seen before and it made me feel good. ![]() I could hear her laughing and joking with my sisters as they packed things. Mama seemed to be the happiest one of all. THE DAY WE moved I thought everyone would be sad, but it was just the opposite. It was recently included in the NPG's Tudors to Windsors: British Royal Portraits exhibition, which toured the USA and Australia during 2019, and can now be seen at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich.THE FOLLOWING SPRING WE LEFT THE OZARKS. ![]() In the Tatler article, Maya McDonald describes how Organ "immortalised the now quintessential 'Shy Di' image", and indeed, the Diana portrait is among the NPG's most popular paintings, and remains on permanent display. It was shown alongside Organ's portrait of Prince Charles, three days before the Royal Wedding on 29 July 1981. After it was attacked, the National Portrait Gallery made the unprecedented decision to remove the portrait, as well as the portrait of Prince Charles, from public display. The painting had earlier drawn record crowds, with over 100,000 people flocking to see the painting within the first three days of its grand unveiling. Fortunately, the large horizontal and vertical slashes across the painting were fully repaired after exhaustive, year-long restoration work. The teenage protestor lunged with a knife at the painting, and a shocked witness describes how the 'whole middle of the picture was ripped out'. A recent article in Tatler tells the 'forgotten story' of when Bryan Organ's inaugural royal portrait of Princess Diana came under attack by an anti-Monarchist.
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