“Behold, children are a gift from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.” (Psalm 127:3)

This morning the sound of the doorbell pulled me out of a deep sleep at precisely 6:50 a.m. My dog Shakespeare lept from the foot of the bed and bolted down the hallway, barking. I groped for my glasses and bathrobe, yelling at Shakes to stop the infernal racket. I stumbled down the hall, tying the robe sash tightly around my waist. “Who in the world is at my door at this hour?” I wondered. My heart quickened in my chest. “Is it bad news?”

I opened the door and there stood my neighbors’ seven-year-old son Miles. My mind raced. Was he going to tell me he found Sam, my cat, who had stayed out all night, injured (or worse!) in his yard? Was one of his parents hurt? But why would they send over their young son? I couldn’t make any sense of it.

“Good morning, Miles. How can I help you?” Miles looked shyly down to the ground.

“I’m sorry it’s so early, but I need oranges. Do you have any oranges, please?” He looked up at me, his sweet round innocent eyes pleading with me.


Miles nodded.

“Come in, come in. I have some in the fridge,” I told him and walked to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he said when I gave him the bag of fruit. I opened the door for him and waved goodbye and then made my way back to bed. No sense in trying to go back to my dreams, I was now wide awake. A few minutes later Miles’ dad texted me. “We owe you an apology, and a bag of fruit. We had no idea Miles left the house. He just now woke me up and asked me to cut oranges for him. He wanted to make homemade juice for his mother for Mother’s Day. He told me he got the oranges at your house! Sorry!!!”

I texted back, “How sweet! No worries!”

I thought about Miles’ sweet innocent eyes pleading with me at the door. All he wanted in the early start of the morning was to make his mother happy on Mother’s Day. I thought about my own mother. I thought about all of the sacrifices she has made for me over the years. I’m sure I’ve broken her heart more than once or twice, but she still loves me like I am the sweet innocent baby that God gave her.

This Soul Reminder is for my mother Helen. I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day. Thank you! It is also for every mother who has stood by their child who struggled with alcoholism, addiction or psych med dependence.

F.R.O.G. Practice: Tell your mother thank you. Tell her that you love her. If she has passed on, spend a few moments remembering the things you loved about her.