A model of

courage and hope, my mother never doubted that God would heal her. She

always spoke of his goodness and mercy to her. She talked about how supportive

the neighbors were, how this experience was strengthening her more than

30-year marriage to my dad, how the church she served as pastor would

fill-in on the weekencs after her treatments.

She also spoke

of the indignity of losing her hair and her struggle to work with side

effectslike the particularly nasty "bone-breaking" feeling that

one of her medicines gave after chemo.

In February,

just three days after her last radiation treatment, my mother flew to

Georgia from her home in Indiana to witness the birth of her first grandchild.

She prayed with me through contractions during my 18-hour labor. She nearly

fainted from exhaustion. (At one point the midwife asked, "Are you

okay?" After I told her I was fine, I realized she'd been talking

to Mom.) But just after 2 a.m. she was one of the first to hold newborn

Joshua Caleb.

This October,

things are different. I don't work downtown. and there are no elevators

at The Citizen. The Andersen employees wouldn't be there to ride, even

if I was. I'm told that their old offices are down to a skeleton crew.

And my mother is in the clear from her cancer.

She and Dad

visited recently, their fourth time to see little Joshua. Her hair and

strenth have returned. By the grace of God, she is healthy. And happy

to hold her grandson again.

I am so grateful

for the gift of life, both my mother's and my son's. That's what I was

aware of this October.

(Ellie White-Stevens

is an account executive with The Citizen Newspapers.)

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