Southern Sisters: The One About The Ferns

By: Stacey Bryan

Date: 9-27-2024

Over the years, I’ve been asked to divulge the past conversations I was privy to sitting around the Sunday night dinner table with THE SISTERS after church. Yes folks, that would be my mother and her sisters.  I was blessed to be able to overhear them recount so many family stories, and it’s my honor to share them with you. So by popular request, THIS, my friends and family, is a compilation of some of those conversations and a few of our shenanigans over the years. I’ll call this one the story of Bettie, Lila, and the ferns. 

There once were two southern sisters armed with a pickaxe and a shovel about to commit the most harrowing and heinous highway robbery of the most incredibly majestic ferns they had ever seen in their entire lives. I would like to stress that I was violently held hostage against my own will from these two deadly and dangerous criminals who forced me to be their getaway driver at gunpoint. 

I’m jumping ahead of the story. Let me start in the beginning.  

My mama was born in a shotgun house called the ‘ole home place up on the ridge in the outskirts of the ‘Burg in the great Volunteer State of Tennessee. Born to Beulah Josephine and Jesse Theodore, she is one of seven kids. Now my mother would argue that she’s from Winter Garden, Florida since they relocated as a family when she was six years old.  However, I enjoy stirring the pot to point out the obvious on her birth certificate. 

Jesse and Beulah came from the country from very humble beginnings. They met, fell in love, and began creating a family. Seven kids, 5 pregnancies, two sets of twins. Yes, seven kids. They took the scripture, “be fruitful and multiply” to heart, and multiply they did. My mom was a part of the second set of twins (Bettie and Billy) and then came the caboose, Lila Joyce.  

Now as most of you may know, in the country certain words have different meanings than what they do in the city. For example, the word “shine” does not necessarily describe the rays of the sun, or the word “still” does not describe lack of movement as in “Be still, and know that I am God.” Those words mean something completely different in the country. 

Still living in Tennessee, Granddaddy took his role as provider of our family very seriously. By the time of Prohibition, he was married; had a wife and two or three kids to support. He decided to make a little money on the side “runnin’ shine” from the local stills never expecting to be picked up by the authorities UNTIL HE WAS. Yes, you read that right. My granddaddy was picked up for transporting illegal alcohol during Prohibition and spent some time locked up for his little indiscretion.

And if that’s not humorous enough, the officers of the jail must’ve been from up North because they let him out significantly early for good behavior. Apparently they never had authentic Southern food, and my granddaddy was a superb cook. They told him if he’d cook all of their meals, they’d let him out early. He definitely took them up on their offer, and they honored their commitment to him. Sometimes God favors you even in the middle of your sins, and that was Grandaddy’s first and last time “in the slammer”. 

Sometime shortly afterwards, Grandaddy found the Lord, and passionately served Him until he was called home. A man with a past suddenly found his future in Christ and he was changed forever. Both he and Grandmother attended the same little country church called Cedar Springs Church Of God while living in Tennessee. When they moved to Winter Garden, Florida, they attended South Lakeview Church of God for about 25 years until moving back home to Tennessee and Cedar Springs where they were until… 

They gave our family a firm foundation to build on. A legacy. A love for the Lord. They are our earthly examples proving we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. They never expected perfection, but they wanted our best. They always told us about Jesus, especially if they thought we weren’t living right; because after all they didn’t want us to “bust hell wide open”. 

By the time I came along, Granddaddy was the perfect, larger than life, man that led our family. He exuded love. He emanated faith. He could do no wrong in my eyes. So imagine my surprise when the truth was unearthed. I never knew about HIS PAST until sitting around that dinner table with THE SISTERS recounting the family secret. I was flabbergasted! I was in a state of shock! Not my granddaddy! 

As the laughter ensued, they saw the eye-opening look of complete amazement on my face. Total shock! My reaction was priceless to them. They laughed and laughed, and then followed it up with, “Not a word of this to anyone EVER.” 

After all, all good Christians need to have the appearance of being perfect, right? Wrong! 

I replied, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. I’ll write about it in a book about y’all and I’ll call it Southern Sisters.” 

They always teased me about my title, “That’s a really crazy choice of names. You don’t even have a sister.”

I told them I was naming it after them, their relationship with each other, and what they mean to me. As they would share story after story, I would make a mental note of it. I hope each story blesses you.   

I digress…. back to the two sisters holding me hostage and the ferns. 

Whenever my mother and I visit the old home place, we always go to the cemetery where my grandparents are buried with flowers in hand. It’s always an adventure just to go to the cemetery. The distance is undeniable as you ask the rest of the family if they want to go with you. 

They say, “Nah, thanks though. That’s way out in the country. Y’all have fun.” 

When a country person tells you the cemetery is out in the country, expect a drive. A very long drive. So I am driving down Granddaddy Road. Yes, that’s the real name of the road. In the backwoods, going to the cemetery for what seems like hours when my Aunt Lila suddenly shouts, “STOP!!!!”

Now being from the city, when someone yells at you to stop while driving like she did, you usually assume one of two things. Either you’re headed right into oncoming traffic or you just got busted for speeding. Never in my wildest imagination, did I ever think she had spotted the most audaciously beautiful ferns ever created by God Himself. They were glowing with His glory and my Aunt Lila was already plotting and planning how those ferns would look in her front yard. Yes folks, it was premeditated. I am a witness!

That’s when the gun appeared from the backseat, and Aunt Lila was threatening to pull the trigger. I, in desperate fear of my life remembering the beatings she gave as a child, did as she commanded me to do. I became their hostage. I repeat, I was their hostage. I, at no time, was ever their accomplice. I was their hostage. 

I was ordered to put the car in reverse and back up to where the ferns were. I was desperately wanting to turn around for safety purposes, but they weren’t allowing it. I was instructed to simply put the car in reverse and back up. That’s the way it’s done in the country. Don’t worry about safety. No one’s going to be driving out here anyway. Just back up!

I drove in reverse for what seemed like a country mile until Aunt Lila said, “Okay, that’s good. Stop right here. Bettie, do you see that? Look! Aren’t those the prettiest ferns you’ve ever seen in your life. We need those, don’t we?”

I looked to my left and there in the front yard of this dilapidated old house were the glowing ferns of glory alluring all sinners to their beauty. The yard, if you could call it that, hadn’t been mowed since the last time a bush hog came through. The driveway was non-existent, if there had ever been one. The front door was gone. There was no way anyone with any sanity was walking through that place anyway. It looked horrifyingly eerie. The windows were broken, and the remnants of paint were a fading memory from the old frame structure. How my Aunt Lila spotted these ferns through all the junk and debris still amazes me. 

As my mother gazed on the ferns of glory, I knew it was  over. This was the day she was choosing heaven or hell, and her choice was to “bust hell wide open”. 

These two southern sisters proceeded to get out of the car and make their way across the brook into “the yard” encircling the ferns. They couldn’t stop admiring them, walking in circles looking down at the ferns and then at each other. I knew it was too late. I had never seen my very own mother contemplate such a criminal act before in my life.

As they began to bend down to attempt extraction, I rolled down the car window to give them a more holy alternative, “Y’all know they sell ferns at Walmart for $9.99, right?”

My Aunt Lila chimed in with, “Now, why would we pay our hard earned money for ferns when these are here just begging us to take them home with us?”

They began trying to pull up those ferns with their bare hands. They were there for what seemed like an eternity pulling and tugging and begging me to come and help them to no avail. Again, let me stress I was held at gunpoint. I never at any time was their accomplice. I told them they might as well shoot me now, because I was going to heaven to be with Jesus, Jesse, and Bealah.

They finally came back to the car fern-less. Thankfully, I thought they had given up and we could go to the cemetery and go home. No such luck! 

Aunt Lila and Bettie Lou got back in the car and shouted, “Drive!”

I was fighting back tears as I hesitantly said, “Where?”

My Aunt Lila said, “We’re going back to my house for a pickaxe, shovel, and a bucket. Bettie, we’re going to come back and dig these ferns up whether she helps us or not.”

“Yeah, I need some ferns in my yard in Florida, “ Mother said, apparently forgetting that her yard was already overrun with ferns even without these golden gems.  

As I drove them all the way back to my Aunt Lila’s house, I tried to convince them to change their evil ways. Don’t you want to go to heaven and see Jesus, Grandmother and Granddaddy? I even stated scripture. The bible says, “Thou shalt not steal” ladies. Think about it…. What would Jesus do? 

As we pulled into the driveway, they each jumped out of the car. One grabbing the pickaxe, and the other the shovel. As they made their way back to the car, each had a bucket in their hand. My one and only thought was… Not only do they have a gun, but now they have the tools to dispose of my body. I was terrified. But not too terrified to pull out my camera and begin recording video footage. After all, it could be used as evidence after the fact. 

We drove all the way back…. Let me tell you it was a journey…. We stopped at the same dilapidated ‘ole house and got out of the car. Yes, I got out this time ready to record this priceless family treasure. They forced me. Remember, they had a gun. 

My Aunt Lila carried the pickaxe, and my mother carried the shovel. As they crossed the brook, I was following closely behind recording every magic moment. Just as we made it over the brook, I heard an eardrum shattering scream coming from my mother. As she fell from her feet, her bucket flying one way, and her shovel the other. I was recording every hilarious moment, laughing uncontrollably, and crying all at the same time. 

My mother, half laughing and half crying, said, “Y’all would laugh at me if I was dying.”

Why yes, yes, we would... 

After I got a lot of really great butt shots of her attempting to get up from the around with my video camera, I asked her if I could help. 

She snapped at me, “Get away from me! I don’t want you touching me! I want to get up by myself.”

Well okay, Bettie Lou, proceed on. 

My Aunt Lila never skipped a beat. She was pulling up fern after glorious fern with that pickaxe and threatening to use it on me if I didn’t shut up laughing. After my mother regained her composure, she aided and abetted in the grand theft of nearly $3000 of ferns if they had been purchased from Walmart.  All the while, screaming at me to shut up laughing. I could not help it. When these two get together, it’s always complete pandemonium.  

As we made our way back to the car after their armed robbery, we had more fern than could fit in the trunk of the car. They celebrated their free ferns all the way to the cemetery and back to my Aunt Lila’s house. They couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful they were going to be in their yards. Somehow they forgot the most important thing, they never once thanked me for documenting their criminal activity for our family. I’ve never quite understood why. 

Looking back, I don’t know who was happier about the ferns. Mother or Aunt Lila? It’s an incredible family memory. Now, let me tell you what happened to those ferns. Both of these wanted fugitives attempted to transplant those ferns in their yards, and guess what? They all died! Every. Single. One. Not one of them lived. They still talk about it to this day with shock and awe. They just can’t understand why they didn’t live. 

Well, let me tell you why those ferns died. Yes, they’re all deader than a doornail. Why? God’s not going to let you steal His Glory OR ferns drenched in His Glory. You can’t steal from the Good Lord and try to transplant it or recreate it somewhere else. His Presence is undeniable. And….Thou shalt not steal! Don’t go breaking the Lord’s commandments and expect to prosper. Those ferns were cursed the moment they hatched that hairbrained idea. God won’t bless no mess. 

Thankfully, they repented for holding me hostage at gunpoint. It took some time for me to forgive them; but I’ve realized that if I want to go to heaven I have to love everybody including the fern-stealing criminals in my family. Please remember Bettie Lou and Lila Joyce in prayer. They certainly need it as this story is solid evidence that could be held against them in a court of law. You might also want to say a prayer or two for me too. I want everyone to know I’m going off the grid for the next few days, because I think they’re going to be searching for me with that pickaxe. Pray, people, pray!    

Some points to ponder

• Find good godly mentors along your journey who encourage you to keep going. Hopefully, they’ll be the ones who add laughter to your life. 

• There isn’t anything like the peace and serenity that comes from being in the country. 

• You are choosing heaven or hell so please don’t “bust hell wide open”. Choose Christ.

• Southern food puts meat on your bones, but it’s worth it.  

• Everyone has a PAST. Share your testimony with others. There’s no need to hide it, because you are a new creation in Christ. If someone judges you because of your past, then they’re not who you think they are. 

• Everyone in the country is armed and dangerous especially when you mess with their family. 

• No matter how humble your roots, be proud of who you are. Someone somewhere will always have more than you. Your worth is in Christ and you own it all because you are His heir. 

• Thou shalt not steal is a commandment. When you steal ferns and transplant them, they die. Don’t steal from the Good Lord. 

Blessings! 

Stacey Bryan