Brenda Cannon Henley's archive

Brenda Cannon Henley

There are few things in life stronger than the love of a mother for her child. In her heart and body are the elements that sustain the young life until it greets the world in birth, and those same elements grow with each gift of a child. A mother knows her own child, I might add, like no other and can see the good sometimes resting beneath the unkind, mischievous or negligent surface.

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I have a program on my computer that alerts me to special days, birthdays, facts of history, and suggestions for each day. I truly enjoy learning and find something new every single day to add to my storehouse of facts, trivia, fun and serious information. Today, I have spent a good two hours reading about famous Texas women, and in particular, mothers. It is fitting since we are celebrating the Battle of San Jacinto in which Texas won her independence in 1836.

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Amazing that three different little reminders have come to me in the last two days calling my attention once again to the fact that it is the little things that often mean the most. Perhaps you can attribute my newfound opinion to my age, the loss of my husband and many friends, my children growing up and now my grandchildren reaching adulthood, but I know for certain that I value and treasure the little things I once took for granted.

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Shortly after my husband, Ted, passed away in August, I said down and penned an article, but after reading it over, I decided against sending it to my editors. I felt that readers might misconstrue what I had written or, more importantly, what I was feeling deep in my heart. I asked the questions, “Why are you so silent? Don’t you know I need you more than ever? Where are you? Were you really never our friends? Don’t you care at all?” I was hurting and I did not know how to express myself or really what to expect from those I loved.

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Easter is a time when Christians all over the world think of the Lord Jesus Christ, His life, His ministry, and of the crucifixion on the cross. I realize that I write for people of many faiths and that we all perhaps do not believe the same, I cannot help but think of Easter and spring and new birth and the joys of living at this time of the year. I ask that our readers bear with me as I look at the death, burial and resurrection as I have been taught down through the years and as I believe in my heart.

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