It was a cold February night in the lonely hills of Bond, Kentucky. The howling of the
wind and the fiercely blowing snow made it hard for the doctor to see the path he needed to
follow. Just around the bend of the road, at the top of the hill, the anxiety of the mother in
labor intensified as the contractions became closer together. The neighbor lady busied herself
by sterilizing and preparing the bedroom for the delivery. The older children had been sent to
the neighbors until the event was over.
The flickering of the kerosene lamp in the window was a welcome sight to the cold and
weary physician. He quickly removed his winter attire as he headed for the kitchen to scrub his
hands and rinse them in the tepid water. He hurried, the delivery would soon occur. He was
concerned about the attitude of this community towards this mother and child. She had chosen
to not let him record the father's name on the birth certificate. Her love for this child's father
gave her the determination to not expose his infidelity. She had endured more than her share of
The neighbor pulled back the curtain in the doorway as the doctor entered the bedroom. As
he took the mothers' pulse they made eye contact. They had known each other for more than
twenty-five of her thirty-three years. Her marriage at thirteen, the birth of her two sons, and
the death of her husband by the time she was fifteen was a heavy burden for even an older
woman. In a strange way the death had been a blessing. It had ended the verbal and physical
abuse that she suffered due to his alcoholic rages. In spite of the hardship and unconventional
method used she had managed to keep her children and care for them. She survived the only
way she found open to her.
This child would face the ridicule of pompous, self-righteous people. But, to his mother his
arrival was to be cherished, the creation of a love with a mark against it. No matter what the
circumstance, the creation of a life is a creation by God. No matter what lay ahead of this child
God would be there for it. Every child that arrives in this world comes with a God-given destiny,
regardless of the challenges life itself demands of them.
Time for the final push arrived. The welcome sound of the crying child warmed the mothers'
heart. Smiling the doctor announced the birth of a fine, healthy son. He quickly grabbed the
heated blanket and placed the tiny infant in my grandmother's arms on February 11,1924. The
birth of my father was registered in heaven above. He proved to be a gift from God to many
people throughout his life.
As I sat waiting for the delivery of my first great-nephew I fully understood just how much
of a gift my father was to me. He was the man God had chosen to be my daddy! More
importantly he loved God. My grandmother had chosen to give him life in spite of the hardships
she was enduring. An over whelming peace and comfort filled my heart in knowing he had
found love, purpose, and fulfillment for his life in loving mother, cherishing us five children,
and delighting himself in his God-given gift of nine grandchildren.
On this very special day, in my heart of hearts, I knew he stood rejoicing, from
heavens balcony, at the impending birth of his first great-grandson. The thrill of his delight
welled up within my heart at the announcement that Camden had arrived safely to start his journey through life. There would be challenges for this little man but I knew the God that had taken care of Daddy would be there to take care of him. He would be just as cherished as the Daddy that God had chose to bless my life.
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