98-year-old Kentucky woman with over 230 great-great-grandchildren meets her great-great-great-grandchild for the first time in amazing photo with 6 generations in it

An incredibly heartwarming photo showing six generations of women from the same family has gone viral recently as it captured the attention of a large number of people.

At the top end of the age scale is 99-year-old MaeDell Taylor Hawkins who is holding her seven-month-old great-great-great-granddaughter Zhavia Whitaker in her arms while the rest of the women, including MaeDell’s daughter, Frances Snow, 77, granddaughter Gracie Snow Howell, great-granddaughter Jacqueline Ledford, 29, and great-great-granddaughter Jaisline Wilson, 19, are posing behind them. Today, MaeDell has more than 620 grandchildren from her own daughters and their children’s children.

“I know it’s rare for six generations … it’s even rarer for all of them to be the same gender,” MaeDell’s granddaughter Howell, 58, told Good Morning America. “We’re all girls — girl power, as well.”

Facebook/Sheryl Blessing

When they snapped the photo and shared it on the social media, none of them knew it would attract that much attention.

“We just kind of planned a day, and we just all met and grandma knew we were coming,” Howell, who now lives in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, said.

MaeDell got married back in 1940 when she was just 16 years old. Her husband was 50-year-old rail worker Bill Taylor who at the time had 10 children and needed someone to take care of them while he was at work. MaeDell took the role of a mother and went on to have 13 children on her own.

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Facebook/Sheryl Blessing

The family lived a very simple life as they lacked electricity, running water, and a stove, among the rest.

Getting married young was normal back in the day. Speaking of it, Howell said, “Now we don’t. We have children later in our life, so families are not that big. Having six generations is very, very rare to start with.”

The Kentucky matriarch now boasts a whopping 623 descendants, according to a family chart shared by her daughter-in-law, Janice Taylor. They include 106 grandchildren, 222 great-grandchildren, 234 great-great-grandchildren and 37 great-great-great-grandchildren.

“If everything goes well, the baby’s doing well, Grandma’s doing well – we’re all going to meet back in June and get another picture,” the family shared.

Man in Walmart Demanded That I Give up My Wheelchair for His Tired Wife – Karma Got Him before I Could

I never expected a trip to Walmart to turn into a showdown over my wheelchair, with a stranger demanding I give it up for his tired wife. As the situation spiraled and a crowd gathered, I realized this ordinary shopping day was taking an extraordinary turn.

I was cruising down the aisles in my wheelchair, feeling pretty good after scoring some deals, when a guy—let’s call him Mr. Entitled—blocked my path.

“Hey, you,” he barked, “My wife needs to sit down. Give her your wheelchair.”

I blinked, thinking it was a joke. “Uh, sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” he snapped, gesturing to his wife. “She’s been on her feet all day. You’re young, you can walk.”

I tried to keep my cool. “I actually can’t walk. That’s why I have the chair.”

Mr. Entitled’s face turned red. “Don’t lie to me! Now get up and let my wife sit down!”

My jaw dropped. I glanced at his wife, who looked mortified.

“Look, sir,” I said, patience wearing thin, “I need this chair to get around. There are benches near the front of the store.”

But he wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, looming over me. “Listen here, you little —”

“Is there a problem here?”

I’ve never been so relieved to hear a Walmart employee’s voice. A guy named Miguel appeared, looking concerned.

Mr. Entitled whirled on Miguel. “Yes! This girl won’t give up her wheelchair for my tired wife. Make her get out of it!”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up. “Sir, we can’t ask customers to give up mobility aids. That’s not appropriate.”

Mr. Entitled sputtered. “What’s not appropriate is this faker taking up a chair when my wife needs it!”

People were starting to stare. Miguel tried to calm things down, speaking in a low tone. “Sir, please lower your voice. We have benches available. I can show you where they are.”

But Mr. Entitled was on a roll. He jabbed a finger at Miguel’s chest. “Don’t tell me to lower my voice! I want to speak to your manager right now!”

As he ranted, he stepped back—right into a display of canned vegetables. He stumbled, arms windmilling, and went down hard.

CRASH!

Cans went flying everywhere. Mr. Entitled lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by dented tins of green beans and corn. For a moment, everything was silent.

His wife rushed forward. “Frank! Are you okay?”

Frank tried to get up, but slipped on a rolling can and went down again with another crash.

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Miguel shot me a look, fighting a smile too.

“Sir, please don’t move,” Miguel said, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “I’m calling for assistance.”

Frank ignored him, struggling to his feet again. “This is ridiculous! I’ll sue this whole store!”

By now, a small crowd had gathered. A security guard and a manager appeared, taking in the scene—Frank standing unsteadily, cans everywhere, Miguel trying to keep things calm.

“What’s going on here?” the manager asked.

Frank opened his mouth to rant again, but his wife cut him off. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “We were just leaving. Come on, Frank.”

She grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the exit. As they passed me, she paused. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Then they were gone, leaving a mess of cans and confused onlookers in their wake.

The manager turned to me. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry for the disturbance. Are you alright?”

I nodded, finding my voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wow. That was something else.”

He apologized again and started organizing the cleanup. People began to disperse, but a few helped pick up cans.

An older woman approached me, patting my arm. “You handled that so well, dear. Some people just don’t think before they speak.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I’m just glad it’s over.”

As the commotion died down, I decided to finish my shopping. No way was I letting Frank ruin my entire trip. I rolled down the next aisle, trying to shake off the residual tension.

“Hey,” a voice called out. I turned to see Miguel jogging up to me. “I just wanted to check if you’re really okay. That guy was way out of line.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for stepping in. Does this kind of thing happen often?”

Miguel shook his head. “Not like that, no. But you’d be surprised how entitled some people can be. It’s like they forget basic human decency when they walk through the doors.”

We chatted for a bit as I continued shopping. Miguel shared some of his own customer service horror stories, which honestly made me feel a bit better. At least I wasn’t alone in dealing with difficult people.

As I left the store, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the whole experience. What a day. But you know what? For every Frank out there, there are way more decent folks—like Miguel, that nice older lady, and curious kids.

I headed home, my faith in humanity a little battered but still intact. And hey, at least I had a wild story to tell. Plus, I got some free cereal out of the deal. Silver linings, right?

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