One bright Tuesday morning in Lagos, Nigeria, my father left for work, waving bye to my heavily pregnant mother. A couple of hours later, my father returned to pick up a file. He stepped into the bedroom where he saw an infant on the bed while my mother was reading a newspaper.
"Whose baby is this?" he asked.
In response, my mother smiled and stated that shortly after my father left for work, she went into labor. And, all by herself, she gave birth to a bouncing baby boy, separated him from the placenta, bathed him and sat down calmly to chill. Just like that!
The anniversary of that birth is March 15th and the baby boy of that day was me.
To God be the glory.
"Whose baby is this?" he asked.
In response, my mother smiled and stated that shortly after my father left for work, she went into labor. And, all by herself, she gave birth to a bouncing baby boy, separated him from the placenta, bathed him and sat down calmly to chill. Just like that!
The anniversary of that birth is March 15th and the baby boy of that day was me.
To God be the glory.
No comments:
Post a Comment