I've been a storyteller since I was six years old when my mother had her first series of electroshock therapy treatments. I made up stories to keep my sisters quiet while mom slept. Dear DebI didn't know how it felt to have cancer, but I knew about fear. Dear DebTwo people have tried to kill me. The first person was my mother. Dear DebI used to believe there were big miracles and little miracles. But, I'm not so sure God measures miracles. Dear DebI was raised to believe forgiveness was a gift I was supposed to give the person who hurt me, but that felt like giving a bully an ice cream cone after he pushed me down on the playground. Dear DebMiracles are one of God's ways of getting our attention. I know he got mine. It's a miracle I'm here. Dear Deb
~ Margaret Terry
