When I was a child, I awoke many mornings and found my mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast or folding laundry, while she watched Protestant television evangelists preach the word of God. Some days, I stumbled downstairs to find her curled up on the couch, tears running down her face as she listened to the morning message. I caught her on the phone donating money to the needy children who had no food or water in third world countries. I noticed spiritual books lying around the house and if I ever I opened her bible, there were all sorts of ink blotted notes in the margins. Once, when she met a homeless woman with five children, one of whom was disabled, outside the grocery store during a snowstorm, she personally drove the family to the motel in which they were living. Then, she took it upon herself to get the woman on state assistance. She found the family a home and she had it furnished with donated items.
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