My great-aunt Arizona died on her ninety-third birthday. But she goes with me in my mind—

Arizona was born in a log cabin her papa built in the meadow on Henson Creek. She grew to be a very tall little girl who liked grow flowers, sing and square dance to the music the fiddler on Saturday night. But what she really liked most of all was to read--and dream--about all the faraway places she would visit one day.

Arizona never did go to those faraway places. Instead, she stayed in the Blue Ridge Mountains where she was born, and taught generations of children about words and numbers and all the places they could go one day.

Gloria Houston's joyous recounting of the cycles of her great-aunt Arizona's life is a story to share—one that reminds us of the magical place a special teacher can hold in our hearts.

From the dust jacket