The Story of A Brave Mother
A memoir
I sat and listened attentively. I could see the mist well up in her eyes as she tried her best to hide the pain beneath her wig and beautiful makeup, but she was doing a terrible job. The strain of her experience revealed a very young, beautiful woman who had been aged by the trials she was undergoing.
"I cried all through the day, and some more at night," she sniffed, pausing a little to gather her thoughts. "I kept asking God why he gave me this cross, why me? Why!"
In my heart, I searched for the right words to console her but found none. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but I couldn't because I could never truly understand what it meant to bring a child with a rare congenital skin disorder into this world.
I thought of a full-time job that required your best effort at all hours of the day. The only difference was that this job took from you emotionally and mentally, testing your will and resolve to live and love genuinely.
I always believe that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. As I sat and listened to her talk about her daily struggles, I realized that some of us are stronger than we are given credit for. All we need is a little encouragement and hope that everything we go through in life prepares us for something bigger in the grand scheme of the…
