Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Poem

Thank God for everything!
Help spread thanks to others.
A time of thanks and a time for family and friends.
Never forgot what the Lord has provided unto us.
Knowing we are blessed by our Heavenly Father.
Serve each other with Thanksgiving.
Give to one another.
I thank you God for all that you hath done for me.
Visit others and share a time of being thankful.
In everything we do God the thanks.
Now is the time to thank God, do it everyday for all things.
God be given the glory forever and ever.  – Amen

By Steve Patterson

 

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Filed under Thanksgiving

Lord, I Thank Thee!

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Two Things Define You.

Your Patience When You Have Nothing,

&

Your Attitude When

You Have Everything.

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Filed under Gratitude

‘Tis the Season!

With Thanksgiving around the corner
and Christmas soon after,
’tis the season for giving and receiving!

 

“Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace”
Thanksgiving SWAG Giveaway

powered by Rafflecopter begins in moments and will run for the next eight days ending on November 24th. The more you do, the better your chances of winning such a great gift(s). Click below to enter and have fun!

raffle

The winner will be announced on my Facebook page: /WriterMaryAPerez

 

“Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace”
Christmas SWAG Giveaway

powered by Goodreads begins November 26th and ends December 17th. Someone’s name is drawn from the pot and wins a signed copy of Running in Heels:  A Memoir of Grit and Grace and a Christmas SWAG bag

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Running in Heels by Mary A. Pérez

Running in Heels

by Mary A. Pérez

Giveaway ends December 17, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

 

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Filed under Holiday Book/SWAG Giveaways, Uncategorized

Thanksgiving 1976

I stared at the TV, hearing the drone but not paying attention to the program. Earlier I had eaten to my heart’s content, wishing I hadn’t stuffed myself the way we did our turkey.

Before too long, I felt a strong urge. Alone and frightened, my heart raced.

I pressed the button.

And pressed again.

I shouted.

No one came.

In desperation I banged on the wall, yelling, “Hello, anyone out there? I have to push! I have to push!” Doesn’t anyone hear me? I . . . have . . . to . . . push!

I pounded on the walls, about to put a hole through it. At last, a nurse ran in. Much to her surprise—and my anguish—she found me fully dilated and ready to pop.

A lot of activity happened at once. Oddly enough at the same instant, I felt like an ice cube. The nurse noticed me trembling and threw three blankets over me. She fetched Mr. Wonderful in the lounge, already stretched out half-asleep. After waking him, they gave him a hospital gown, a cap, and a mask. After he followed them to the delivery room, they instructed him where to stand.

With my knees bent and feet in stirrups, an assistant leaned me forward.

“Now push,” my doctor instructed. “Push, hard.”

I took a deep breath and held it, managing a couple of pushes, one or two deep grunts and a long groan, feeling the blood rush to my brain. “I . . . can’t!” I gasped. “No more. I’m tired.”

“Come on. Keep pushing. Bear down. A little more.”

“Arrrrgh!”

“Shush. It’s okay, honey,” Mr. Macho-turned-coach drilled. “Stay calm.”

YOU stay calm! IT HURTS!

“Humph,” Donny snorted.

“All right, now give me one big, long push.”

“It . . . b-burns!” God, I feel like I’m tearing!

“Okay, now stop. Stop pushing a moment.”

PushBreatheBear downDon’t pushBreathe! My mind zoomed from ninety to zero. Oh, what am I supposed to do? Why hadn’t Donny and I completed those Lamaze classes? Finally, the answer came to me: In order to refrain from pushing, I had to do a series of shallow breathing. Pant. Like a dog.

Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant.

Donny watched the whole process bug-eyed and ashen-faced.

Some macho-man he turned out to be. 

2:56 a.m.

Gorgeous. Chestnut hair. Almond-shaped eyes. Rosy cheeks. Ten fingers and ten toes. I was in my teens and just delivered a beautiful, healthy 7 lb. 6 oz. baby girl. My baby girl! Thank you, God. With the ideal name for her—in memory of my beloved grandma and my deceased sister—I named her Anna, with Marie being her middle name.

Once home, I savored the miracle before me: An innocent life at peace in her crib. A life I had only known as bittersweet; a life filled with much adversity from being alone, cold, hungry, and frightened. My mind twirled with unanswered questions. Could I protect this child and keep her safe? As her mommy, I wondered if I’d always be there for her, and not fail or disappoint her. Would we have a close relationship? Would she always feel my love?

(An excerpt from Running in Heels – A Memoir of Grit and Grace)

# # # #

My firstborn’s birthday is just a few days away. About every four years, her birthday lands on Thanksgiving Day.  From day one, she is a reminder of all I am thankful for. She is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. When she came into my life, she began a circle of three.

As I watched her grow, she taught me the rhythm of a mother’s heart beat for her child.

heartbeat

To my beautiful daughter:

Anna Marie, there’s a lot more to the story that had transpired before this excerpt about you posted here, as well as a lot more that occurred afterward. I suppose your curiosity is piqued right now, but I’m afraid, you’ll have to remain patient and stay tune along with the rest of the audience until my book becomes published.

I love you.

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© M.A. Perez 2013, All Rights Reserved

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November 21, 2013 · 10:01 PM