As the everyday events in our lives unfold, it is often hard to attach any great significance to ordinary things.  Yet I still remember the kindness and love extended to me as a young child sitting at the feet of my great grandmother.  My first childhood memory is of her patiently teaching me to fold washcloths and put them in a stack.  She was born in 1873 and she would tell me stories of growing up on the farm in Oklahoma –  working  ...