Hello, Friends! I’m working on editing my childhood stories plus adding a few new ones, with a plan to publish my memoir next year. With that in mind, I’m not posting new content this fall–saving it all for the book. So, here’s a repost of a story that first appeared here on my blog in August 2018. All of your support has been so meaningful over the eight years since I launched this website. Thank you so much! Missing Home…
The girls’ dorm was a beehive of activity on my first Saturday morning at the boarding school in Nigeria. “Alright, girls. Line up! It’s time to get your hair washed!” One of our Big Sisters, a junior high girl assigned to help us, herded sixteen first graders into the bathroom. We formed a line that stretched out the door of the large, open room in the first-grade hall. Three other big sisters stood in front of the sinks in a…
Today, April 23, 2026, I am celebrating my sister, Cindy, and her beautiful life. Happy 60th birthday, Cindy Lou! The heavy tropical rain beat like a drum on the tin roof of the school building. The rhythmic ratta-tat-tat drowned out all other classroom noises while it soothed my spirit and fed my daydreams. My first-grade teacher raised her voice. “School is over for the week, children,” she said, “and I have some exciting news for Debbie Jones. Your dad is…
I stared out the window of the second-grade classroom at the tall, shady mango tree while colorful, tropical birds tweeted happily among the branches. The drone of the teacher’s voice faded quietly into the background at the boarding school for missionary children in Nigeria. My racing heartbeat slowed for a moment. Then the chalk screeched on the blackboard, and I quickly turned my head toward the front of the classroom. I don’t want to get yelled at again for daydreaming….
As I sat down for breakfast in the dining hall at Kent Academy, the air was filled with the chitter-chatter of two hundred boarding school kids. At my seat, a piece of paper two inches square, lay on the tablecloth. Each of my tablemates had one beside their plate, too. The dorm Uncle’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “The red card at your seat is called a tag. Today the staff in every section will be watching you closely during…
Pushing her cat-eye glasses further up her slender nose, my fourth-grade teacher bends over my desk. “Debbie, it looks like you’re still having trouble counting American money.” I frown and point to number four on my workbook page with black marks and smudges all over. “I’ll never figure this out. Did I get this one right, yet?” Living in our missionary boarding school in Nigeria, I get confused by American coins. The teacher shakes her head and her floral perfume…
After an hour of shopping at Mervyn’s, my friend Grace and I agreed we had what we needed for our college outfits. The double doors swooshed open, and we stepped out from the clothing department into the bright sunlight of a balmy March afternoon in Fresno. I had recently moved into a small house that I rented with Grace and her sister while I attended Fresno City College. This was only my second semester in college, yet my fifth house…
This is the last day of August, and I don’t want the month to end. For one thing, it’s my birthday month, and I don’t want the parties to end. Additionally, August is the month when I, as a child, typically flew away from home to live at boarding school four hundred miles away. You can read about the challenges in my previous blog posts. Now, however, I’ve just returned from an epic two-week vacation in Australia. Chris and I…
In the summer of 1976, my older brother, Larry, graduated from Hillcrest High School in Jos, Nigeria. Mom and Dad took a leave from their ministry and brought our family of seven back to California for a one-year furlough. The purpose was to help Larry get settled into his first year of college. It seemed like an ideal plan, because I was a senior in high school, and my parents could help me adapt to the American culture, choose a…
During her 80s, my mom painstakingly wrote her memoir. Drawing on her memories of thirty years in Nigeria, she worked hard to summarize her life and the years she and my dad spent serving in Nigeria with SIM. To fill in her memory, she referred to the many letters she had written over the decades to family and friends back home in the US. When she turned 92, we finally published her magnum opus on Amazon KDP. The back of…