Mildred Walker
Born
in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, The United States
May 02, 1905
Died
May 27, 1998
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Winter Wheat
by
9 editions
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published
1944
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The Curlew's Cry
by
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published
1994
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The Southwest Corner
by
2 editions
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published
1981
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Fireweed
by
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published
1994
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The Quarry
3 editions
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published
1947
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If a Lion Could Talk
by
2 editions
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published
1970
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The Brewers' Big Horses
by
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published
1996
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Unless the Wind Turns
by
2 editions
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published
1996
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Dr. Norton's Wife
by
3 editions
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published
1938
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Light from Arcturus
by
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published
1995
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“And you've gone on all these years hating each other. Gil felt that hate. He could tell just being here. That's one of the things that drove him away from here, from me...'
Mom was still so long I looked up at her...She shook her head.
...'No, Yelena, I never hate Ben an' Ben don't hate me. Gospode Boge! I love him here so all these years!' Mom touched her breast and her face broke into life. Her eyes were softer. 'Me hate Ben!' she laughed...
I couldn't look at her, but I had to say what was in my mind. 'But all these years, even when I was a child, I've felt that you hated each other. When I heard you that night you both sounded cold and hard.'
Mom made a sound of disgust in her throat. 'That don't mean nothing. We get mad, sure! Like ice an' snow an' thunder an' lightning storm, but they don't hurt the wheat down in the ground any.' Mom picked up her whitewash brush and slapped it against the rough boards. 'Yolochka, you don't know how love is yet.'
...She finished her wall and poured the whitewash that was left back in the bigger pail. 'You can write that young Gil of yours that he don't know what he think he does. Sure, we fight sometime, but we got no hate here.”
― Winter Wheat
Mom was still so long I looked up at her...She shook her head.
...'No, Yelena, I never hate Ben an' Ben don't hate me. Gospode Boge! I love him here so all these years!' Mom touched her breast and her face broke into life. Her eyes were softer. 'Me hate Ben!' she laughed...
I couldn't look at her, but I had to say what was in my mind. 'But all these years, even when I was a child, I've felt that you hated each other. When I heard you that night you both sounded cold and hard.'
Mom made a sound of disgust in her throat. 'That don't mean nothing. We get mad, sure! Like ice an' snow an' thunder an' lightning storm, but they don't hurt the wheat down in the ground any.' Mom picked up her whitewash brush and slapped it against the rough boards. 'Yolochka, you don't know how love is yet.'
...She finished her wall and poured the whitewash that was left back in the bigger pail. 'You can write that young Gil of yours that he don't know what he think he does. Sure, we fight sometime, but we got no hate here.”
― Winter Wheat
“The words came so fast they seemed to roll down hill. Nobody ever calls it all that; it's just spring wheat, but I like the words. They heap up and make a picture of a spring that's slow to come, when the ground stays frozen late into March and the air is raw, and the skies are sulky and dark”
― Winter Wheat
― Winter Wheat
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