No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
5 mins of writing on a set topic.
I’ve decided that if I ever wanted to do more writing….and to really get serious about it then I need to be able to just write. Simply write. So I’m going to join some friends linking up at Lisa-Jo’s blog and we shall see what fun ensues…..
So here goes….
What Mama did.
Mama got her finger stuck in the wet wipe canister, that’s what she did. We were going home from a family trip to see Grandad in Queenstown. We’d pulled over at one of the most picturesque roadside stops in the land, right there in Middle Earth, the five of us crammed into our old maroon coloured Peugeot 404 (can’t beat a European car kids, says Dad), and what does Mama do? Gets her finger stuck in the wet wipe canister, that’s what she did.
The three of us kids laughed. We giggled and then we snorted and then we hollered. Poor Mama started a little laugh, while Dad, ever the rescuer got our his trusty pocket knife and came to her rescue.
Poor Mama. It hurt her finger. It hurt her pride. We shouldn’t have laughed, but we did and once we had started, it was hard to stop.
Just one more example of the many times she sacrificed.
Sacrificed. That’s what Mama did. Her pride. We laughed at her expense. With food. Always the last to take her share, always a smaller share than anyone else. Her time. She’d stay up late for days on end to sew my pretty dresses to surprise me come Christmas morning. Her own needs and wants and desires. Put on the back-burner for us.
Who trotted off to serve the Lord in a third world nation, while pregnant with me, and already mothering a four year old and a six year old? Who had to deal with dysentary and boils, typhoid and hepatitus, sending her own children away to boarding school that was two days train ride away because that was the very best option available to her? Mama. That’s what Mama did.
Time and time again.
That’s what Mama did.
That’s what Mama still does.