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a replay,replay event when I  was a kid is the day my momma took me to go pick some cotton.  that day I will never forget and I swore I would make something of it and your book smartness would say turning a negative to a positive so, I think that's the day I learned to talk to the lord for myself so, I looked down at my hands and they are bleeding from the cotton pickin thorns..i looked down the row and see a black snake and hoping he continue on his way.  I looked up to the sky and ask lord, oh lord why and that's when my momma looked back down the row at me and she say monte you going too slow and one thing you don't do is talk back to your mother and when she tells me when I look back down the row and see you still ain't pickin no cotton and yo head still looking up to the sky, I don't know who you talking to wit why, why,why what i'm gonna do is pull up one of these cotton stalks wit thorns on it and beat you until you start pickin some cotton..i told my momma you can beat me all you want I do not like doing this.  to this day there are no cuts and bruises on my hands and the only reason I have a couple of callous on my hands is because I drive a lot.  on lunch break the boss told my momma-Gladys don't you ever bring that one to my cottonfield again..my momma gave me that look and I looked down at my hands wit great disdain..she never took me pickin cotton again.

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