A Tribute to my Mom on Mother’s Day
Dad ran a hand over his stubbled chin as he stepped into the kitchen of our mission home in Nigeria. “Marcy, there’s a plane coming tomorrow. Do you have any cookies to send to Kent Academy for Larry and Debbie?” Mom dried her hands on the towel beside the sink and crinkled her forehead. “Oh, Herb! We ate the last of the brownies with our afternoon tea.” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Dad rubbed Mom’s weary back. “I’ve…