Marilyn Friesen: parents
Like wisps of fog, vestiges of final moments with her mother stained her cheeks."Get out of my life! You are a disgrace! You are good for nothing!' Her mother's harsh shriek rang in her ears, crushing her spirit.
"But it wasn't a bar!" Grace protested. "It was at the community center and most of the soldiers drank moderately."
Almost without noticing, their feet had carried them far beyond the Adderley's home street. Flustered, she had tried to take her books away from her companion, Randall Sutherland, but he just held on the tighter. "Not unless you come with me to the dance tonight," he teased with an easy grin.The color drained from Grace's cheeks; she clearly remembered her reaction. A dance? I've never gone to a dance in my life! Dances are wicked! I know that. It was not dancing that tempted Grace, but the opportunity to get to know Randall better. We wouldn't have to dance, would we? Maybe we could just, well... stroll around in the moonlight as they do in storybooks. Alternatively, maybe we could, uh, sit and visit or something.
"I'm fine, Sweet: no need to worry. I can hold my liquor. This will be the last. You should taste it. It's quite pleasant, in fact." She shuddered in refusal and he had didn't pressure her.
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.comwww.marilynshistoricalnovels.com
The Number One Reason I Wrote It
So what’s really important to you? For me it is, was, and always will be to be a good mother. I think a lot of you can identify with that: being a worthwhile parent is a goal that we long to reach but at times seems unattainable.
So what do we do? We get help. By far my best assistant is the greatest parent of them all, the Heavenly Father. Have you found it so? But, we still stumble and fall and search for more direction, right? Maybe we even find heroes that we admire. One of my favorites was Mary, the mother of Jesus. I think we all, Protestants, Catholics, Mennonite and Amish, or whatever, agree that she must have been a wonderful mother.
But what made her so special? I think it was her humility, but had a consuming desire to learn more about her and possibly learn from her example.
So I wrote a book. Perhaps you have heard about it already: Mary’s Diary, Jesus through His Mother’s Eyes. I chose to write it in diary format because it seemed more personal, intimate. And I prayed about it a lot, too. I really wanted to know how it might have felt to raise the most remarkable Son in the world. I’m telling you it was a real blessing delving into this topic.
Okay, enough for now. I’ll send you a few links so you can check out this book for yourself. I’m praying that, if you are a Mom, Dad, a teenage girl or anyone else looking for inspiration and direction, maybe this book will bless you just like it did me. Take care!
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
Better Than a Fairy Tale? Well, Not Yet
So here I was in some little farmhouse in the middle of Who-Knows-Where and I walked into the pale, non-descript kitchen, and stopped. They are talking about me. I froze. Dad was talking about giving me away, abandoning me like an unwanted kitten or puppy. Oh, sure, it was called fostering, but I didn’t think of it that way. I just knew he wanted to tear me away from the only family I knew and loved.
I don’t remember how I arrived there, but suddenly found myself in the woods across the graveled road with tall, very tall fir trees surrounding me. To say I bawled my eyes out isn’t trite, either. Don’t know how long I stayed there, but common sense told me I had to go back eventually, so I did. No one had missed me. I wandered around, looking into the spare bedroom, etc. and wondered if this would be my new home. Time was moving along so I looked in on ‘them’ in the kitchen. They were still talking, but I got the drift of it, the farm wife didn’t think it would be a good idea to take me in. I didn’t linger to hear more. The news was too little, and too late. The damage was done. I went to the car and sooner or later Dad joined me. We drove off leaving my innocent childhood behind. P.S. Please check out my book. (Link below.) If you want to escape from a troubled past and hope for a better future, this may be the most comforting book you will ever read, http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
Marilyn Friesen: parents
Like wisps of fog, vestiges of final moments with her mother stained her cheeks."Get out of my life! You are a disgrace! You are good for nothing!' Her mother's harsh shriek rang in her ears, crushing her spirit.
"But it wasn't a bar!" Grace protested. "It was at the community center and most of the soldiers drank moderately."
Almost without noticing, their feet had carried them far beyond the Adderley's home street. Flustered, she had tried to take her books away from her companion, Randall Sutherland, but he just held on the tighter. "Not unless you come with me to the dance tonight," he teased with an easy grin.The color drained from Grace's cheeks; she clearly remembered her reaction. A dance? I've never gone to a dance in my life! Dances are wicked! I know that. It was not dancing that tempted Grace, but the opportunity to get to know Randall better. We wouldn't have to dance, would we? Maybe we could just, well... stroll around in the moonlight as they do in storybooks. Alternatively, maybe we could, uh, sit and visit or something.
"I'm fine, Sweet: no need to worry. I can hold my liquor. This will be the last. You should taste it. It's quite pleasant, in fact." She shuddered in refusal and he had didn't pressure her.
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.comwww.marilynshistoricalnovels.com
The Number One Reason I Wrote It
So what’s really important to you? For me it is, was, and always will be to be a good mother. I think a lot of you can identify with that: being a worthwhile parent is a goal that we long to reach but at times seems unattainable.
So what do we do? We get help. By far my best assistant is the greatest parent of them all, the Heavenly Father. Have you found it so? But, we still stumble and fall and search for more direction, right? Maybe we even find heroes that we admire. One of my favorites was Mary, the mother of Jesus. I think we all, Protestants, Catholics, Mennonite and Amish, or whatever, agree that she must have been a wonderful mother.
But what made her so special? I think it was her humility, but had a consuming desire to learn more about her and possibly learn from her example.
So I wrote a book. Perhaps you have heard about it already: Mary’s Diary, Jesus through His Mother’s Eyes. I chose to write 
it in diary format because it seemed more personal, intimate. And I prayed about it a lot, too. I really wanted to know how it might have felt to raise the most remarkable Son in the world. I’m telling you it was a real blessing delving into this topic.
Okay, enough for now. I’ll send you a few links so you can check out this book for yourself. I’m praying that, if you are a Mom, Dad, a teenage girl or anyone else looking for inspiration and direction, maybe this book will bless you just like it did me. Take care!
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
Better Than a Fairy Tale? Well, Not Yet
So here I was in some little farmhouse in the middle of Who-Knows-Where and I walked into the pale, non-descript kitchen, and stopped. They are talking about me. I froze. Dad was talking about giving me away, abandoning me like an unwanted kitten or puppy. Oh, sure, it was called fostering, but I didn’t think of it that way. I just knew he wanted to tear me away from the only family I knew and loved.
I don’t remember how I arrived there, but suddenly found myself in the woods across the graveled road with tall, very tall fir trees surrounding me. To say I bawled my eyes out isn’t trite, either. Don’t know how long I stayed there, but common sense told me I had to go back eventually, so I did. No one had missed me. I wandered around, looking into the spare bedroom, etc. and wondered if this would be my new home. Time was moving along so I looked in on ‘them’ in the kitchen. They were still talking, but I got the drift of it, the farm wife didn’t think it would be a good idea to take me in. I didn’t linger to hear more. The news was too little, and too late. The damage was done. I went to the car and sooner or later Dad joined me. We drove off leaving my innocent childhood behind. P.S. Please check out my book. (Link below.) If you want to escape from a troubled past and hope for a better future, this may be the most comforting book you will ever read, http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966