Mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to buy you a home.

I’m sorry, mom.

I wanted to buy you a house.

I wanted to present you with a home, to call your own.

I wanted so very much to be able to pay your every debt.

Mom, I so desperately wanted to meet your every need.

You gave your all, mom.

You gave from your last. You fed the homeless. You gave knowing you had not returned.

You taught me, mom, how to be a giver.

You taught me, mom, how to be a lover.

Your love language, was of deed. You did not know, mom, how to express your love, in words.

Maybe, mom, it is partly why words means so much to me: to be given freely, liberally, relentlessly, endlessly, lovingly, devotedly.

In return, I wanted to buy you a house, a home, a safe space to call your own.

You taught me, mom, that wealth was not in things. You taught me wealth could be endlessly given in love, in laughter, in deeds.

Mom, you loved me through every moment spent, in the kitchen, watching you prepare meals for us, for the community, for those in need.

I’m sorry, mom. I wanted to be able to reward you by buying you a home.

*As Cassandra looked upon the hopelessly meager treasure she had stored, during her life, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, Cassandra gazed upon her mother who had a beautiful crown. Next to her, stood King Jesus who bent over and whispered these words to her*:

“Beloved, EVERY time you gave, you placed a diamond in your mom’s crown. EVERY time you shed tears, for another, you placed gold, in your mom’s crown. EVERY time you encouraged a soul, you placed rubies, in your mom’s crown. As you do, for the least of these, you have done unto Me.

And, as your mom taught you the way you should go, her mansion was being fashioned by My Hands. Thank you, beloved, for helping me to build your mom her home. Well done.”

Mom died, with next to nothing, so far as the world would say. Yet, she gave me priceless gifts of wisdom and tenacity. She taught me how to be loyal. She taught me how to fight. She taught me how to love with what you have.

Yet, mom only gave me ONE genuine hug that was initiated by her. And, she had only said “I love you, Jeanette” on the very last conversation we had(another story for another time).

Still, she gave me a mansion, through her love language of service. She built me a home, of love with every meal cooked and served.

I guess we are even, mom. Thank you, for being my home. Thanks for teaching me that house, can be a home, without being one of brick and mortar.

I love you, mom. I shall endeavor to build you a scepter next…lol.

Your daughter,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: You are building crowns, beloved, each and every time you give your heart and love to others. Don’t discount your efforts. You may never know how many lives you have touched. Keep being you. It matters. As do you.

• BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
• Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
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• REAL TALK: DESPISE NOT SMALL BEGINNINGS, BELOVEDS.👘🦺🥾👟🥿👞🩴👢🩰👡⛑️🔌🕯️🔎🖌️🖋️📢
• IT ME!