Next to my parents and my grandmother, when I was a child, there was no one whom I loved more than Uncle Davie and Aunt Beulah Lee. Aunt Beulah Lee was my dad's sister.

They only lived about five miles from us, and I spent many an hour sitting in Aunt Beulah Lee's kitchen churning butter with her, shelling peas or whatever she might be doing on any given day.

When I had to do these chores at home, I hated them; but, somehow, Aunt "BuLee", as we always called her, made them fun. She was a happy, jovial soul who enjoyed her home and her work; that joy just naturally translated to anyone around her.

When our parents had to be away, we would go to their home after school. Mother was a strict disciplinarian who absolutely forbade after-school snacks. Aunt BuLee, on the other hand, always had a big platter of homemade cookies with fresh cold milk awaiting us on those days. And, of course, a big hug to let us know how happy she was that we were there.

Uncle Davie was the one who taught us how to fish. He had a pond on his property, and he would take the three of us there for fishing lessons. Dad was not a fisherman. I remember once my line got tangled in some moss. Uncle Davie sent the three of us behind the dam while he stripped down to go in to free my line. Funny the little things that stick in our minds, isn't it?

Fortune smiled on the two of them and they became quite wealthy. In fact, they became multi-millionaires, thanks to the oil and gas that was hit on their land.

They never seemed to have misfortune of any kind hit them, in fact. Their daughter and their grandchildren were all good people; no serious illness befell any of them; and they lived long lives.

But, you know what. They never, ever went to church nor read from the Bible. It breaks my heart.