“After a certain number of years our faces become our biographies. We get to be responsible for our faces.” Cynthia Ozick

My face bears the signs of time. It bears the lines of motherhood. The laugh lines slowly edged as my kids discovered the world around them. Some fine lines around my eyes are the stamp of my tears as they stumbled through their painful “firsts.” And then there are the lines of pride, all through my face– they are still growing deeper as my three richest blessings are making their mark on this earth.
These lines are very personal; they are my very own badges. Each stand as a reminder of the passing seasons of my days, and witnesses to the grace of God that carried me through the uglies and the beauties of everyday life as an ordinary mother.
The mirror tells me that all of my lines are lovely. They spell three very precious names: Matthieu, Maelys and Daniel. Do I like what I see? Yes, indeed, I do.


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