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TheTime COIN
Camille Anding
How did time manage to carry life
through such fleeting days and years?
It seems much too quick to see the end of life on this
earth and be left holding only memories and a few tokens
of our loved ones lives. Yet our God has a miraculous way
of bonding wonderful memories in our minds that are
associated with our parents, but in such a way that we
don’t live in the past or remain paralyzed in grief.
However, it is ironic that there are still moments when
I feel like a wide-mouth Lucy from Charlie Brown shouting,
“I MISS MY MAMA!” And even though I realize my memory
is losing some of its needed cells, I rejoice that there are
moments and images in my mind that time hasn’t erased.
I remember Mother converting the dining room into
her sewing room where she would cut out a new fall
dress on that mahogany surface and make her Singer
machine sing. Ther’s one specific two-piece ensemble I still
recall–a blue-green plaid with a gazillion pleats in the skirt.
It required way more time than I required for my taste, but
it was the latest style, so Mother kept making pleats.
It never dawned on me as a child that
Mother’s closet had a lot
more space than my sister’s
and mine. In years to come
I would realize more of her
sacrifices for her four children.
When I hear about plans for
VBS, I think of Mother. It was so
special to me that she was the
principal, the main person to
organize and make it work.
I thought she was an outstanding storyteller. Her
missionary stories came alive as we cleared jungle paths
to remote villages and glided down the Amazon in a
canoe to join the missionaries sharing the Gospel.
I sang the Psalms to present day tunes and learned
pledges to the Christian flag and Bible—all under
the tutelage of my mother.
I loved the way Mother loved my daddy, how she
trained us to appreciate and look for dessert after every
lunch and dinner, how she hung a line of clothes like the
military might have ordered, how she let us have a real
but small fire to cook our mud pies, how she saved all
her empty spice tins and oatmeal containers for our
playhouse, how she made our being sick almost better
than being well, due to her constant attention and
special treats, how she loved musical performances by her
offspring and how we knew she loved us unconditionally.
Life lessons, intentional and unintentional, were forged
into my years by my mother and
daddy. I know they weren’t perfect,
but time has a way of dissolving
the flaws and polishing the jewels.
I’m grateful that memories like
mine allow me to celebrate
Mother›s Day on a daily basis
because my mother’s influence
is branded in my heart and
mind. And I count that as
a really good thing!
122 • MAY 2021