Mrs. Cabbage

There was a woman across the street from where we lived whom I called "Mrs. Cabbage."  The woman's name was not Mrs. Cabbage; I know I must have tagged her with it because she always had a vegetable garden.  I recall that on her side of the street the yards backed up to woods.  Between her home and the woods Mrs. Cabbage grew a large, in my five year old eyes, huge, vegetable garden.  She was generous and very kind.  I remember she would listen to my chatter as I "helped" her in her garden.  I can imagine my "help" caused her a great deal more work but she never complained and was always willing to let me "help" her.  She talked to me as if I were an adult while I held some of the vegetables she would pick and she would always send vegetables with me as I skipped along home after a pleasant visit.  I wish I knew her real name, I know I called her Mrs. Cabbage to her face as long as I knew her.  I never saw a child or a husband at her home, perhaps she indulged me for that reason.  Dear sweet Mrs. Cabbage.