My Daughter Called Me From A Hospital Bed

A real smile, one that reached her eyes.

“You know,” she said quietly, “for the longest time, I felt so weak. Like I let them break me.”

I sat down next to her. “You weren’t weak, Janelle. You survived.”

“Maria came to see me last week,” she said, changing the subject. “That charity you helped her set up for victims of domestic abuse? It’s helping so continue reading …