The Number is 74


I was, as they say, a bloody mess. I didn’t have a penny to my name. I had no clothes, couldn’t talk, was just laying there in Doctor’s Hospital in Coral Gables, Florida.

Thanks to my mom, I was alive. Screaming my head off, a bit disoriented, but had pulled through, or was I pushed through.

And, I don’t remember any of it.

That was 74 years ago.

It took a while to learn the language, get on my feet. Mom and dad hung in there with me, although I wasn’t much help for quite a while. I found out I had two older sisters.

Through the years I have gotten out in the world, met a lot of wonderful people, come to know a gracious God. I am grateful today for these 74 years among each of you.


1 comment on “The Number is 74”

  1. Emery Smith Reply

    I love your unique spin on celebrating a very common (we ALL have one!) in a very unique way! Kudos!

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