Joann KlusmeyerJoann was born in the mountains of Arkansas in 1933, in the height of the depression, into the family of a pioneer minister. She was attracted to pencils and paper from the time she learned not to poke pencils in her eyes, and that paper did not tast particularly good. Having an older sister who aspired to be a school teacher, she became a class of one and was expected to master reading at a very early age. Books became the magic that would transport her into another life, and she read and re-read the few that were available until they were limp scraps. It was about then that more stories began to develop within her own head, along with simple rhyming verses. This book is one of them. Her father's occupation as minister, by necessity, put her in church several times a week, where she practically cut her teeth on a church bench, so to speak. There was the small country church that her father built and pastored for years, and later the other churches where he was called, and in that way she became uniquely positioned to meet a lot of people on a regular basis, and appreciate the hard-working settlers who pioneered the land. This book, and her other books, reflect the lives and attitudes of those of her childhood that she remembers best. Read More Read Less