Little Mother
When Mama came home from the doctor that day I could tell she was upset. "What's wrong, Mama?" I asked. "Plenty," she told me. "You and I have a lot to talk about." We sat at the kitchen table and drank a cup of tea in silence. Finally she told me. "The doctor says that it is serious. I have maybe a year to live." "Mama!" I exclaimed. We held each other and cried for a while. Finally I wiped my eyes and asked her, "What will we do?" "You must prepare to be the woman of the...