Mary Ann Jones was known as Mae to most of her family when she was growing up. She was my maternal grandmother and the daughter of Cadwalader and Sarah Jones, the immigrant ancestors of our Jones line.

Sometime in the late 1950s or early 1960s, Keith A. and Arlene T. Jones took it upon themselves to create and publish a family history book that would enumerate the lives and adventures of the Joneses of Llanfihangel Glyn Myfyr, Wales from their start in Wales to the emigration of some to the United States of America and beyond. In the process of creating this book, they sought records, photos, and stories from other family members to include.

During this time my mother, Beryl Mae McKinnis Percy, received a letter asking her to write about her memories of her mother, Mary Ann (Mae) Jones McKinnis. I remember that she was a little nervous about writing for others to read, but equally excited to share her memories of her beloved mother. This is what she wrote:

“Mary Ann Jones: My mother was a quiet, unassuming person, small in size, but endowed with an enlarged heart of concern for others, especially her family, and an awareness of their needs.

She loved music and played the piano beautifully. She gave a thunderous version of the “Burning of Rome” and many nights I was lulled into sleep by her music.

She was a strict disciplinarian, there being no allowance for “back-talk” or dereliction of duty, or we felt the sting of whatever “weapon” happened to be hand—be it her hand, a twig from a tree, or whatever…

I have never seen a woman work as had as Mom did. She gardened, raised chickens, milked cows, sewed, cooked, canned, cleaned, ironed, carried water in buckets from the neighbor’s well (when ours went dry) to fill the boiler on the stove with which to wash our clothes. She was determined HER family would be clean and presentable to the community.

No one in need of a meal was ever turned away from her door. I am certain our house had some kind of a “mark” on it, as every hobo passing through Aurelia was at our table for breakfast or supper–until the winter one of our “guest’ brought with him a case of influenza and left us all deathly ill. Still, no one was turned away, but from then on all “hand-outs” were served on the back porch.

Life was hard, yet she never complained and accepted any challenge that came her way. I loved her dearly and miss her even now, but am comforted knowing she had only “gone on ahead,” and we will meet again “On that Beautiful Shore.”

–Beryl Mae McKinnis Percy”

I do hope that they are together now that my mother has passed away these many years.