These marigolds remind me of Mrs.Lottie, I miss her...
"We crept to the edge of the bushes that bordered the narrow road in front of Miss.Lottie's place. She was working placidly, kneeling over the flowers, her dark hand plunged into the golden mound. Suddenly "zing"- an expertly aimed stone cut of the head off one of her blossoms." line 214
"M-miss Lottie!" I scrambled to my feet and just stood there and stared at her, and that was the moment when childhood and womanhood began. That violent, crazy act was the last act of childhood." line 351
"Yet, there are times when the image of those passionate yellow mounds returns with a painful poignancy. For one does not have to be ignorant and poor to find that one's life is barren as the dusty yards of one's town. And I too have planted marigolds." line 382