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The Accident

Sep 12, 2008

Donna Walden is a Richmond Hill writer, children’s minister and mother of three. This story is her first of many that will be featured on Live In Richmond Hill, and we hope that you enjoy it as much as we do.

Just the other day at the grocery store I ran into a lady whom I knew from our MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group several years ago. I couldn’t recall her name, but I knew exactly how I knew her and that I liked her. I greeted her with something catchy like, “Hey, You!” (Yep, always the right word for the moment. Just call me “Apples of Gold”.) MOPS was a great place for moms to connect with each other, and I met a lot of really nice people – and some true friends - over my 7 years of involvement in the group.

One of the many cool things the MOPS group did was take meals to new mommies after they came home from the hospital. We took food every other day, sometimes for up to 2 weeks. I don’t have a huge cooking repertoire, but I particularly loved to do this. It was personal. I’d go to her home and carry the food into the kitchen myself. I’d coo and ooh over the baby and sniff his or her little head. (There’s nothing like the sweet smell of a newborn.) I’d cringe at the mom’s tale of labor and delivery and maybe slap a high five for the beauty of painkillers. Then I’d go as quickly as I came. Most of the time I was in and out in 10 minutes, because you don’t need long visits with a newborn. But they were 10 important minutes.