Five months before
Armistice Day, the official end of World War One, my grandmother
Irene was born in Chicago—on June 11, 1918.
It’s hard to
imagine seeing a whole century of life, and even my grandma says she
can’t believe she’s one hundred years old. But here she is today,
physically and mentally healthy, and soon to celebrate with children,
grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and other relatives.
She’s spent her
life taking care of people, loving and serving them, and even now she
keeps up with what everyone in the family is doing. She blesses
everyone she meets. We're so grateful that she's been with us this long! From her faith in God to her many years of wisdom
and experience, she is an inspiration to me. I’m honored for her
name to be my middle name.
Happy birthday to
one of the best women I know!
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