111Apr 12, 2013
Mom, come look. She says it breathlessly, wiping sweat and wild hair from her forehead with her hand. I stand at the sink, washing my hands with the honeysuckle soap, preparing to chop onions for our supper. “Come look at what?” I ask, drying my hands on a towel. I reach in the cabinet for […]
112Apr 5, 2013
Over lunch, we talk of how we first imagined ourselves as mothers, smiling down at our fingers. I’ve always longed to be the Proverbs 31 woman. She is clothed with strength and dignity, Word says. She can laugh at the days to come. I don’t know, but somehow the unmanicured edges of my fingernails seem […]