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Momma, Tim and Me Make Three: Walking Through My Memories
Momma, Tim and Me Make Three: Walking Through My Memories
Momma, Tim and Me Make Three: Walking Through My Memories
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Momma, Tim and Me Make Three: Walking Through My Memories

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I was a third grader who asked the Lord to be her Savior, and this is a recollection of short stories of how the Lord took care of me and my family through the years to come. I want you to know if you accept the Lord as your Savior, he will do the same for you as he did for us. All you have to do is confess your sin and ask him to be your Savior. Jesus made it as simple for a child to understand, which I did.

Now, I have assurance that when I die I will spend my eternity in heaven. I hope you will make this choice like I did. Once you do, you will never be alone again. He will always be with you. He gives us the Holy Spirit to live inside of us and who will intercede on our behalf to the Father God Almighty.

Confessing your sin and asking Jesus to be your Savior is the most important decision you will make in your lifetime. Doesn’t matter how old you are when you make this decision; you just want to make it before your last breath. This is my prayer for you.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 18, 2022
ISBN9781685179595
Momma, Tim and Me Make Three: Walking Through My Memories

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    Book preview

    Momma, Tim and Me Make Three - Hope Ballard

    cover.jpg

    Momma, Tim and Me Make Three

    Walking Through My Memories

    Hope Ballard

    Copyright © 2022 by Hope Ballard

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

    Christian Faith Publishing

    832 Park Avenue

    Meadville, PA 16335

    www.christianfaithpublishing.com

    Printed in the United States of America

    Table of Contents

    Remembering the Early Years of My Childhood

    Living with Pain, the Lord Will Give You the Strength to Endure When You Call Out to Him for Help

    Remembering the Early Years of My Childhood

    Sitting here in my easy chair in my new home, walking through my memories. It started like all of us. I was born, five pounds and six ounces if I would have been today’s world they would have considered me a premature baby.

    Mom remembers me when she brought me home. She was so worried how she was going to take feed another baby. You see, she had two other children, and I was a surprise. Her first two babies were born thirteen months apart, then I came along nine and one half years later. Mom was worried. You see, Mom was forty and Dad was fifty-two. I told this to a dear friend who at the time was in her nineties and living in a nursing home. We were having lunch together because you see, I worked at the nursing home, and we were sharing about our lives, and I was telling her about my birth and how old my parents were.

    She responded this way when I told her my parents’ ages. She said, Yahoo!

    Oh, we both just hollered and laughed, and then we heard a roar of laughter behind us because the whole lunchroom had been listening to our conversation because we were speaking so loudly.

    Well, that was a little sidebar—I think that’s what they call that in the courts. When Mom brought me home, our grandmother Anna was there to see me. Mom brought me into the room lying on my belly in my birthday suit.

    When Tim saw me, he said, Look, Grandma, her little butt looks like little loaves of bread, and her little cheeks are all wrinkly.

    Grandma laughed at Tim’s comment, and she said, Now, Tim, you shouldn’t talk about her like that.

    Tim said, Well, just look at them, it’s true.

    Grandma took another little laugh and didn’t say anything.

    I was born on November 25. Tim likes to tease me about that always, saying, This year, we are going to put you in the oven and eat you, Hope, since you were born on Thanksgiving.

    I would say, No, you are not. He never did.

    Now I said Mom had two children thirteen months apart. The other child was a sister. I am not sure what she thought. My arrival put her in the middle in the family, and you know, no wants to be the middle child.

    Isn’t that what psychology says? Oh well, someone must be the middle child; it just wasn’t me. Growing up, I think my sister loved me when I was little. I was her baby. She wanted a stroller so bad so that she could push me in, only they didn’t have any money to buy one.

    Well, Robin wasn’t going to let that stop her. She had found someone in the neighborhood who gave her the frame for a stroller, and I was told that she had Mom buy a bathroom rug. She folded that rug on the frame of that stroller. And sitting on the step of our back porch, she sat and sewed by hand that bathroom rug onto that frame.

    When she thought it was secure enough, she went into the house and brought out a sack of flour and put it in the seat of that stroller to make sure it was not going to drop me. When she felt it was okay, she put me in there, and away we were off down the front sidewalk. Back when I grew up, you knew your neighbors.

    Helen, she lived across the street, and she was the neighbor who knew everything that was going on in the street. She kept track of the neighborhood and everyone in it. Well, she called out to Robin from her porch and said, Who do you have there, your baby?

    Robin proudly said yes. I think Robin loved me then.

    I was ornery even when I was a toddler growing up. I kept them all on their toes.

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