Mercy came walking up to me in my sister’s backyard this afternoon with her mud-caked hands proudly extended:
“Mommy, my hands are FILTHY.”
And then she turned to her brother: “That’s Spanish for dirty.”
Erika Carney Haub's musings on life and God from South Central, L.A.
Mercy came walking up to me in my sister’s backyard this afternoon with her mud-caked hands proudly extended:
“Mommy, my hands are FILTHY.”
And then she turned to her brother: “That’s Spanish for dirty.”