For years my mom wrote faithfully to her children as we crossed the globe serving missions. For a while three of us were serving at the same time, without fail our dear mother would write unceasingly. I received two letters a week, before there was email we used what is lovingly called snail mail. I was in Portugal and at times the post was what an optimist would call unreliable. I hungered and eagerly awaited news from home, like a child waits for Christmas. Every letter was a gift. During the summer months letters were filled with endless news of my mothers beloved tomato plants, Phrases like "the tomatoes are doing well" and "we had BLTs last night with tomatoes from the garden" increased my longing for home and gave me great comfort that life would continue.
So as summer begins to wain and in the spirit of love and longing here is my tribute the my mothers tomatoes from the garden.
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