The Apple of My Eye

So, my mother is mean. Got it. Won’t forget it again. I’ve sworn before and will swear again, “I will not be my mother. I am a child of God. He loved me enough to die for me and He doesn’t play head games. I will not be my mother. I will be like my heavenly Father. The one who (gulp) forgives, the one who loves unconditionally, the one who can strike that woman dead with just a flick of his little finger…”

Ooopppss…What I meant to say, is that I will keep my eyes where they should be and not focus on the negative around me.

With that being said please allow me to introduce you to my daughter.





My lovely, talented, amazing daughter is fifteen. She is a giver. The delightful Miss C is the apple of my eye and part of the reason I will never behave like my mother (her older brother is the other reason). She brings sunlight and laughter into this house and without her; I would be lost, really.

As a little girl she was scared of everything. From sand to uneven country ground, she feared it. The loft of the barn was beyond her mind and legs grasp since she had to climb a ladder to get there. Miss C was afraid of the dark and spiders. A funny thing though, she wasn’t afraid of snakes.

She would hunt and catch one gardener snake after another…bare handed. A feat even her older brother wouldn’t attempt. When one bit her, she’d scream, drop it, then turn and pick it up again. The family spent a good deal of time rolling in laughter watching her antics with the snakes.

Miss C had a blood curdling scream. I kid you not. If she was hurt, she screamed. Mad? She screamed. Frustrated, yep, you got it, she screamed. I well remember a time when Beloved was home from work when Miss C let loose with one of those earth shattering shrieks. He dropped what he was doing and sprinted for the front door. I shook my head and sighed, “She’s not hurt. She’s just mad.” If I remember correctly, after that event, she never screamed like that within her father’s hearing. For my part, I finally told her that, “If you scream like that again, there had better be blood or someone better be trying to steal you away.” Thankfully, she outgrew that annoying little habit.

My dearest daughter is a lover of books, her piano, chocolate, and Starbucks. She loves to cook, as long as it involves sugar. She despises washing dishes but is usually pretty fair minded when it comes to drying them. Miss C has gained a reputation for volunteering at our church and knows more people than I do. I am constantly reminded of the sweetness of her character by the praises of others.

Of course, she isn’t all peaches and cream. It would be easier to find and wake Moses than to get that girl out of bed. If she gets in the shower before you, you may as well wait till the cows come home, because she won’t be out any time soon. She “forgets” to scoop that cat box, leaves dirty socks everywhere, and I’m fairly certain she has no idea what a hanger is for. When it comes to shoe shopping, I’d rather hire someone to take her than go myself. She is indeed the princess and the pea when it comes to shoes.

My little girl is fair and blonde, tall and thin, and apparently easy on the eyes by judging the scowl her brother constantly wears when he’s out in public with her. John has informed his sister, Miss C, that she is never getting married since there isn’t a guy alive worthy of her (awwww ain’t that sweet?)

She loves the Lord, loves her Daddy, and yes, she even loves her crazy, emotional mama. I am amazed at her strength of character and marvel at her maturity. Miss C keeps me humble, makes me laugh, and shares her coffee. What more could a mommy ask for?

I love you Crissy


Miss C and Cousin C



Miss C and Miss S before the Father-Daughter Ball



C and C



Snowy Miss C