I really don’t know much about her. I know that she wore a purple hoody and blue jeans. I know that the majority of her hair was not the colour of the roots, so she must not be too fond of her hair’s original colour. I know that she is a mother for her curly-headed son with wild blue eyes and a busy body. Her own eyes had that born-free expression.
I know she captivated me.
It was the last kid’s club of the year, and we had invited the parents to a little program. We began with singing songs like we do every club. They were kid’s action songs, songs about God’s love, and worship songs. And she was loving them all. She raised her hands and closed her eyes. Her body swayed. She clasped her hands to her heart and said “thank-you, Jesus.” She nodded and said, “A-men.”
From all appearances, her life isn’t all that put together. Her son isn’t always respectful. Her husband was noticeably absent, but it seems to me that she knows the most important thing.
“Jesus loves me this I know.” “Come, now is the time to worship.”