PRELUDE TO MOTHERS' DAY

My mother is my world. Believe it or not, I would have been dead if not for her and God's abundant grace. To be alive and not acknowledge my mother's contribution should be likened to a tree claiming to burgeon in cement.

She kept me safe for nine good months; devoid of deformity and other diseases that plague babies because she kept herself well. After (I, ie, me) seeing light from beneath the shadows, she nurtured me in the fear of God. Some say this is typical of most African families. However, I believe mine was and is still unique because of my mother. I remember those days when I was engaged in mischief, she would wait till the break of dawn to administer her justice with the rods of comfort. Yes, my back and some unspoken parts of my body have suffered under my iron fist mom. Nevertheless, I am grateful, for what she did has made me what I am today.

This is my prelude to Sunday's formal salutation.

I LOVE YOU MOM AND WHATEVER GOD HAS SAID ABOUT US WILL DEFINITELY COME TO PASS.