A good story meets you in the midst of life. It tells you something true, something you can […]
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A good story meets you in the midst of life. It tells you something true, something you can relate to. It abducts you. It takes your heart unexpectedly. It gives you the breath of another life as a character in the fairy tale. It becomes a reality you dream is yours. It paints a world you cannot quite touch. It draws you in with emotion and connection, love and heartbreak, familiarity and fantasy. That is when you know it is a great story.
It must have been hot and muggy that afternoon, walking down to the river Jordan. Dirt scratching between their toes and thirst cracking their sunburnt lips. The tour guide raised his toasted arm again over the heads of the crowd, to direct the exhausted stragglers on the right path. A few older women sat down on a rock, complaining about how long this was taking, and what else they should have done this morning.
There are too many things that a mother must worry about when raising her children. Food, clothing education, self-esteem, friends, physical activity, bad influences, good grades. But there is one thing that outweighs all of the little things that may keep her up at night. And strangely enough, many parents don’t give it a second thought.