The Birth of a Story

A New Day Begins!

Writing The Philadelphia Matriarch has been the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. For decades, the story lived quietly within me, waiting for the right time to emerge. On January 1, 2025, I made a promise to myself—and to the generations whose stories I carry—that I would finally begin.

From that day forward, the early hours became sacred. Before the world stirred awake, before the coffee was poured, I slipped into my writing chair. For four to six hours each morning, five days a week, I gave myself fully to the page. By the time our dogs were ready for their daily walk, I had already walked miles through the streets of early-20th-century Philadelphia in my imagination.

Prayer was as essential as pen and paper. Each morning I asked God to illuminate the story and draw the words to the surface. On the rare occasions I dove in without first seeking His guidance, the work felt heavier, the words slower. But when I remembered to ask, the flow returned. Through discipline, persistence, and His grace, the story slowly took shape.

Looking back, I realize the journey resembled the mystery of pregnancy and birth. The gestation was long, filled with expectancy and sometimes discomfort. The editing, layout, and publishing were the painful contractions that tested my endurance. And then, at last, the story was delivered—born into the world as a book to be held, read, and shared.

Like any parent, my hope is that this “child” will be welcomed and received well. That readers will embrace it, nurture it, and find pieces of their own story reflected in its pages.

This book is not just words on paper—it is a legacy, a testimony, and an offering. And just like every new beginning, it is only the start of what is yet to come.

I would love for you to join me in celebrating the birth of The Philadelphia Matriarch. Pick up a copy, or share it with a friend. And most of all—tell me your story. Because our family histories, woven together, keep the past alive and help shape the generations to come.