The Story of the Jam.

Once upon a time
on Mother's Day,

I wrote this post about my mom.

In it, I mentioned that my mom makes homemade jam.

...

Then what do you know?
I went to church,

where my bishop's wife, Sister Bailey,
gave me a jar of delicious homemade raspberry jam.

"I read your blog post,"

she smiled.

"And I knew I needed to bring this to you."

It was one of those things

that was so nice

that I couldn't quite wrap my head around it.

I did wonder a bit about

why she was so inspired

to bring me that jam.

There wasn't anything particularly wrong,
no secret hole in my heart
that that jam seemed to fill.

...

Then what do you know?

In the hallway at church,

I was telling some people

about the jam.

Erin said,

"I made some homemade Amish white bread yesterday.

Want to come over this afternoon for toast?"

Little did she know

that I had been wanting to be her friend

for a while,

but thought she was far too cool.

I went.

The toast and jam were amazing.

It was like living an Amish dream.

And we've been the best of friends ever since.

...

I think I know why Sister Bailey

brought me that jam.