LAURA PATTERSON | GUEST

I sat in her lap with tears in my eyes. I was four and she was in her 50s.

I had mixed the play rice into the Play-Doh and Mrs. Cummings gently corrected me for my likely innocent but possibly mischievous mixture. As an anxious child, striving to earn affection through a good performance, this left an imprint. What was probably a mundane moment for Mrs. Cummings was a monumental one for me.

I wouldn’t have put words to it at the time, but I was implicitly learning the value of gospel community through this relational experience. She clearly explained that the rice and Play-Doh were not meant to be mixed, and I understood the error in my “curiosity”. But redemption followed as she scooped me up and held me in my tears. Her love for me was undiminished….
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