Below you will see the cover of my first book. I never thought I would become an author. Even with the encouragement of others, I talked about others, read others, books. Now I write 'in the book' about my life with my Aunt Mabel.
Your life will be inspired, blessed and touched when you read 'in the book'. I guarantee you. Now, it's been proven.

I believe everyone has a story. I am telling mine. Of course, there is more to come. I've already completed Chapter Three in my second book.
 
I finally found my voice. It's 'in the book'. 
 
I encourage you to read my story about my Aunt Mabel, as so many others have. 
 
When you scroll down on this page, you will read a personal, touching and most inspiring notecard from my Aunt Mabel, mailed to me from St. Albans, West Virginia that reached me in Chicago, for my 55th birthday.  You will find that  special notecard in my book.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Aunt Mabel speaks from the piano
My Aunt Mabel singing at the piano before she preached
Aunt Mabel and Pam after Church, St. Albans, West Virginia
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Chapter One - "CHURCH, A MUST"

 
At the age of ninety one, she left me one evening in bed at her home on the hill. She was a Pastor for 60 years in Saint Albans, West Virginia. A wonderful modest church on the hill (once named Redd's Hill). She was kind. Compassionate. Smart. Caring. Graceful. Charming. Cordial. Courageous. Thoughtful. Monumental. Witty. Strong-willed. Talented. Skilled. Spiritual. A blessing. One of the greatest inspirations in my life---my Aunt Mabel. My backbone.
 
I am not sure if I will get another chance to tell my story. We live in a very uncertain world, changing daily.
 
I am grateful for my Aunt Mabel, my family, my friends, my life experiences.
 
I can say unequivocally that I learned more from Aunt Mabel than anyone else I've ever known. I feel remarkably blessed.
 
I am grateful for how she made me laugh over and over again. Trained me how to play the piano (in Church), how to drive a car (on the Kroger grocery parking lot), how to sing, how to cook, how to be a true woman of God and so much more. Oh yes, how to read every day, The Holy Bible. Her life on this earth has made the difference in my life. And, of course, she made every day a great day. A special day.
 
I remember my Aunt Mabel. She was brown skinned with a round face, two dimples. She stood five feet, four inches tall. Aunt Mabel had small brown eyes, light brown eyebrows and brownish-black hair, near one hundred and fifty-five pounds. Her fingers grew crooked and were long with brown spots here and there. Her feet were eight and a half inches long. Her voice-strong, very firm. Her favorite cologne-Opium, made her smell so good. Her smile was as bright as the sunshine. My Aunt Mabel.

One day, I remember calling her late in August from my mobile telephone and indicated that a special package was out on her front porch and be sure to go get it. I was the special package!
 
It was never a difficult drive of nearly five hundred miles to be in her presence. I cannot count the number of trips to West Virginia today, but on that most distinctive warm night we sat, I on the floor at her feet and she in the reclining chair. We talked for hours about mostly everything, from the current President and what he said on the late night news to �The Bachelor� and that she could tell that one of those girls would be the right one he needed to choose. She said to me, "It is not what you say, it's how you say it." We need to pray forAmerica, Pam. Let's pray." I said, "Now "She said, "Yes, right now." We prayed. Oh, did we pray!
I often wondered why we prayed that very instant.
 
Yes, Aunt Mabel said she could not be late for Church.
 
She instructed me to the dresser drawer to get her whole slip and knee hi stockings, lay them out on the bed and that the suit should be the pink one I bought. The one I had sent her last month from a Chicago Department Store.
We finally got to sleep. Then, before I knew it, she had me up three hours before church began. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. Almost six o'clock. I asked for a few more moments of sleep. She agreed. I repeated that request almost seven times. Finally, her voice said to me, "You better get on up now." I smiled deeply and got up.
Aunt Mabel asked what I wanted for breakfast. She was going to stir up some grits, salmon croquettes with rice to go along with the biscuits and homemade pear preserves. Of course, I wanted the same.
What I hadn't done was study my Sunday school lesson. Obviously, Aunt Mabel had. I needed to go over the lesson title, golden text, scripture location and time (of lesson). She leaned forward and said, "Now let's go over that again." I could not believe she said it. I did. She said, "Now you need to memorize the Golden Text." I seriously tried. Aunt Mabel stopped and looked at me. Well, it was more like she looked straight through me, like looking through Saran Wrap. What was I to say?
Aunt Mabel never wanted to be late for Church, whether it was Sunday morning, afternoon, Tuesday Night Bible Class or Thursday night Church service. This is indeed a fact.
 
Yes, I went to every service. Every time. I can count the years. No exception to this rule. No exceptions. Sick or well. I remember taking homework at times with me. Yes, to Church.
She told me one Sunday morning during Church service to sing "I Made It." I immediately said, I did not sing like I use to anymore. I was living in Chicago, working in The Mayor's Office of Special Events and hosting a weekly Gospel Radio program. Let me explain. In my work and in the Church, I did not sing anymore. (Actually, a few people were aware of my musical ability). It did not matter to Aunt Mabel. I had discovered that it was best to obey. I was going to sing. I did. Needless to say, we were all blessed by the song she selected.
Service did not begin before noon, and lasted nearly two hours. She had been preaching in that church for years. That Sunday I recall the glorious service which was only one of many. As so many times before she stepped to the pulpit, she had her favorite song to sing while playing at the piano. She loved singing the �Blood Songs�, such as, �I Know It Was The Blood� or �When I See The Blood.� She preached from Psalm 37: 37. "Mark the perfect man." She preached about the perfect man for nearly an hour. What a message. The service was so anointed. The accompanying scriptures came from Isaiah 26:3 and St. John14:27.

Before the sermon, there was a short testimony service. I was asked to testify. She insisted. I did. I never gave a short testimony!
Between that outstanding spirited service and the scheduled afternoon service, that I had no knowledge of, until it was announced, I knew I wanted to taste that delicious Sweet Potato Pie that Aunt Mabel had baked and left on the dining room table up on the hill. But instead, we (with some of the members of the Church) went to a fast food restaurant on Route 35 for some fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.
We returned in plenty time for the 3:30 p.m. service. We had another wonderful, inspiring worship service. Yet, up on the hill, I was remembering that scrumptious Sweet Potato Pie and the delicious, delectable oblong lemon cake which she made for a member of the Church. I could not touch it. I wanted too. I could never tell you how much. That cake was looking so good and little did I know that Aunt Mabel had made a smaller one and put it up in the kitchen. She knew. She laughed. A big grin beamed on my face. The taste of that Lemon Cake was so hummm hummm goooooooooooooooooooooooooood.
 
Any visit to Aunt Mabel's house was an adventure in itself, when I think today of all those melt-in-your-mouth dishes of food she was famous for. I remember the smell of Aunt Mabel's home cooking every Saturday night: cabbage and corned beef, fried corn & chicken and sweet potato pie. Carry out containers were a must to help us traveling back to our various homes.
Now, let me explain something right here before I go further. I was raised for over nineteen years of my early life in West Virginia. There are so many wonderful memories and great stories to tell from my schooling, those lovely picnics, my bicycle encounter. Ouch! But, I have to tell you, that great CHURCH (on the hill) was the most important factor planted in my life. Church, A Must. I had no choice. I went. I had to go.
Now, I admit, I am so glad that I went. Every time. Absolutely. I remember red cough drops that tasted like candy in Church. Sounds familiar?
Aunt Mabel taught me to always be a lady (and so much more) She taught me to smile. Laugh. Be a good person. Study the Word of God. Apply it to my daily living. I remember memorizing all the books of the Bible, The lst, 23rd and 100th Psalms. I thank Aunt Mabel for that. I got it.
A lesson I learned a long time ago from Aunt Mabel was, "Church A Must," in your life, if you plan to live your life. You must add CHURCH. With my full schedule, I find myself weekly in Church. Make time in your life for CHURCH (a must).

Chapter Two - "SOW GOOD SEEDS"

 
At the age of ninety one, she left me one evening in bed at her home on the hill. She was a Pastor for 60 years in Saint Albans, West Virginia. A wonderful modest church on the hill (once named Redd's Hill). She was kind. Compassionate. Smart. Caring. Graceful. Charming. Cordial. Courageous. Thoughtful. Monumental. Witty. Strong-willed. Talented. Skilled. Spiritual. A blessing. One of the greatest inspirations in my life---my Aunt Mabel. My backbone.
 
I am not sure if I will get another chance to tell my story. We live in a very uncertain world, changing daily.
 
I am grateful for my Aunt Mabel, my family, my friends, my life experiences.
 
I can say unequivocally that I learned more from Aunt Mabel than anyone else I've ever known. I feel remarkably blessed.
 
I am grateful for how she made me laugh over and over again. Trained me how to play the piano (in Church), how to drive a car (on the Kroger grocery parking lot), how to sing, how to cook, how to be a true woman of God and so much more. Oh yes, how to read every day, The Holy Bible. Her life on this earth has made the difference in my life. And, of course, she made every day a great day. A special day.
 
I remember my Aunt Mabel. She was brown skinned with a round face, two dimples. She stood five feet, four inches tall. Aunt Mabel had small brown eyes, light brown eyebrows and brownish-black hair, near one hundred and fifty-five pounds. Her fingers grew crooked and were long with brown spots here and there. Her feet were eight and a half inches long. Her voice-strong, very firm. Her favorite cologne-Opium, made her smell so good. Her smile was as bright as the sunshine. My Aunt Mabel.

One day, I remember calling her late in August from my mobile telephone and indicated that a special package was out on her front porch and be sure to go get it. I was the special package!
 
It was never a difficult drive of nearly five hundred miles to be in her presence. I cannot count the number of trips to West Virginia today, but on that most distinctive warm night we sat, I on the floor at her feet and she in the reclining chair. We talked for hours about mostly everything, from the current President and what he said on the late night news to �The Bachelor� and that she could tell that one of those girls would be the right one he needed to choose. She said to me, "It is not what you say, it's how you say it." We need to pray forAmerica, Pam. Let's pray." I said, "Now "She said, "Yes, right now." We prayed. Oh, did we pray!
I often wondered why we prayed that very instant.
 
Yes, Aunt Mabel said she could not be late for Church.
 
She instructed me to the dresser drawer to get her whole slip and knee hi stockings, lay them out on the bed and that the suit should be the pink one I bought. The one I had sent her last month from a Chicago Department Store.
We finally got to sleep. Then, before I knew it, she had me up three hours before church began. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. Almost six o'clock. I asked for a few more moments of sleep. She agreed. I repeated that request almost seven times. Finally, her voice said to me, "You better get on up now." I smiled deeply and got up.
Aunt Mabel asked what I wanted for breakfast. She was going to stir up some grits, salmon croquettes with rice to go along with the biscuits and homemade pear preserves. Of course, I wanted the same.
What I hadn't done was study my Sunday school lesson. Obviously, Aunt Mabel had. I needed to go over the lesson title, golden text, scripture location and time (of lesson). She leaned forward and said, "Now let's go over that again." I could not believe she said it. I did. She said, "Now you need to memorize the Golden Text." I seriously tried. Aunt Mabel stopped and looked at me. Well, it was more like she looked straight through me, like looking through Saran Wrap. What was I to say?
Aunt Mabel never wanted to be late for Church, whether it was Sunday morning, afternoon, Tuesday Night Bible Class or Thursday night Church service. This is indeed a fact.
 
Yes, I went to every service. Every time. I can count the years. No exception to this rule. No exceptions. Sick or well. I remember taking homework at times with me. Yes, to Church.
She told me one Sunday morning during Church service to sing "I Made It." I immediately said, I did not sing like I use to anymore. I was living in Chicago, working in The Mayor's Office of Special Events and hosting a weekly Gospel Radio program. Let me explain. In my work and in the Church, I did not sing anymore. (Actually, a few people were aware of my musical ability). It did not matter to Aunt Mabel. I had discovered that it was best to obey. I was going to sing. I did. Needless to say, we were all blessed by the song she selected.
Service did not begin before noon, and lasted nearly two hours. She had been preaching in that church for years. That Sunday I recall the glorious service which was only one of many. As so many times before she stepped to the pulpit, she had her favorite song to sing while playing at the piano. She loved singing the �Blood Songs�, such as, �I Know It Was The Blood� or �When I See The Blood.� She preached from Psalm 37: 37. "Mark the perfect man." She preached about the perfect man for nearly an hour. What a message. The service was so anointed. The accompanying scriptures came from Isaiah 26:3 and St. John14:27.

Before the sermon, there was a short testimony service. I was asked to testify. She insisted. I did. I never gave a short testimony!
Between that outstanding spirited service and the scheduled afternoon service, that I had no knowledge of, until it was announced, I knew I wanted to taste that delicious Sweet Potato Pie that Aunt Mabel had baked and left on the dining room table up on the hill. But instead, we (with some of the members of the Church) went to a fast food restaurant on Route 35 for some fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.
We returned in plenty time for the 3:30 p.m. service. We had another wonderful, inspiring worship service. Yet, up on the hill, I was remembering that scrumptious Sweet Potato Pie and the delicious, delectable oblong lemon cake which she made for a member of the Church. I could not touch it. I wanted too. I could never tell you how much. That cake was looking so good and little did I know that Aunt Mabel had made a smaller one and put it up in the kitchen. She knew. She laughed. A big grin beamed on my face. The taste of that Lemon Cake was so hummm hummm goooooooooooooooooooooooooood.
 
Any visit to Aunt Mabel's house was an adventure in itself, when I think today of all those melt-in-your-mouth dishes of food she was famous for. I remember the smell of Aunt Mabel's home cooking every Saturday night: cabbage and corned beef, fried corn & chicken and sweet potato pie. Carry out containers were a must to help us traveling back to our various homes.
Now, let me explain something right here before I go further. I was raised for over nineteen years of my early life in West Virginia. There are so many wonderful memories and great stories to tell from my schooling, those lovely picnics, my bicycle encounter. Ouch! But, I have to tell you, that great CHURCH (on the hill) was the most important factor planted in my life. Church, A Must. I had no choice. I went. I had to go.
Now, I admit, I am so glad that I went. Every time. Absolutely. I remember red cough drops that tasted like candy in Church. Sounds familiar?
Aunt Mabel taught me to always be a lady (and so much more) She taught me to smile. Laugh. Be a good person. Study the Word of God. Apply it to my daily living. I remember memorizing all the books of the Bible, The lst, 23rd and 100th Psalms. I thank Aunt Mabel for that. I got it.
A lesson I learned a long time ago from Aunt Mabel was, "Church A Must," in your life, if you plan to live your life. You must add CHURCH. With my full schedule, I find myself weekly in Church. Make time in your life for CHURCH (a must).