How very thankful I am for my mother, who taught me to love Truth, be clear in my speech, love and follow the God and Creator of the universe, and do the little things faithfully. She taught me how to clean, how to iron, how to bake bread, how to love my husband, how to laugh, appreciation for good stories, appreciation for listening to accents, how to dress nicely, how to love being at home, and how to trust my Father in heaven.
She is now in Florida, spending some time with her husband and Dani, the young woman who helps them, in a warmer climate. She does not like the cold, and she loves fires and a good cup of hot tea. I will never forget the joy of coming home from miserably cold skiing lessons on Cannon Mtn. in Franconia, and she had a roaring fire in our huge granite fireplace, and hot tea in a lovely tea pot, and delicious hot muffins that we could put butter and honey on. What a sweet memory. And our dog, Zippy, would sit with us in front of the fire, sometimes putting his paws up on the hearth to get warmer, and then not knowing when to get down when his face got too hot, but moving his head from side to side. My mother loved animals too, another thing she gave me appreciation for. (I know, you're not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition!) [for which she gave me an appreciation does sound a little stilted.]
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