By Sylvia Schroeder The Guilt of an Angry Mother Meets Grace
“No one’s perfect,” I think. I’m mopping up my overspilled anger like the remnants of an erupted chocolate volcano that…
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Posts By
Sylvia Schroeder
Dear Beautiful Girl on Prom Night
Dear granddaughter on prom night, I know, I know, I’m just your grandma, not your mother, but here’s the thing,…
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What I Learned About Living When I Nearly Lost My Daughter
When I write about my daughter, I often feel I need to bookend it with (but she didn’t die). Still,…
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This Little Light of Faith Can Shine For a Lifetime
“This little light of mine,” her little finger stood as tall as a 2-year-old’s little finger could. Held out in…
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God Designed Us to Wonder Together, Sweet One
If I had a degree in psychology, I could be a good mommy. I would get why you sometimes cry…
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Each Day Is An Offering
You rode the rapids from the protection of my womb into the hands of a stranger. With that final push,…
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“I Don’t Want Them To Have a Mother Like Me”
“I don’t want them to have a mother like me,” my daughter said. I sat in a heap, shoulders bent,…
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That’s What Moms Do
I lay on the couch, one eye open and one shut. An ice cube wrapped inside a damp washcloth balanced…
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Will You Still Know Me?
“The doctor will just take this itty-bitty part,” my finger taps my daughter’s birthmark. I wear an intentional mask of…
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