Noah was five years old when we found out that he had cancer. He was in my Sunday School class and would come walking down the hallways at church with this skipping kind of swagger and the biggest grin on his face, like he knew something—or maybe had just done something. He was always smiling. So one day I asked him why he smiled so much. He grinned even bigger and said, “I don't know.”
Read MoreI remember as a little girl, there were two things that topped the list of my least favorites about spring. One was a bright orange windbreaker my mother insisted I wear, and the other was spring cleaning. It never failed, though. She would place the cleaning rag and off-brand dusting spray in my tiny hands no matter how many times I insisted that the house was clean enough.We would scrub away the remnants of seasons past, and at the end of a (very) long day, we would be able to start over clean.
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