"Excalibur waits for the rightful king of England.
It is held by the the Lady of the Lake.
She will release the sword when King Arthur's
son is born."
Momsie smiled as she painted with thick oils and putty
knife. This was the story she told. "Do you see how I
twist the trunk of the tree?"
"Some trees are stripped of bark. A dead tree still has
a twist to it. People think only they have emotions like
pride, fear and joy. Every living thing has these feelings.
Twist and turn; see?" She carved a tree on the canvas.
"The people need a King. They want a great leader.
The Messiah will know the land. And he will be wise."
She made a line of fence posts along a dirt path.
She took a brush and made blue mountains,
"Only one King can rule. He will be of the House of
Pendraggon.+ The true King of England."
It was time to cut a square white house and a line of
My mother's family came from France in Lorraine. I thought
it odd she would speak so foundly of an English king.
But, she was always mysterious.