MSI Press Blog

Precerpt from  Raising God’s Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) How Noelle Got Her Name When Noelle was born, Lizzie was four—our only child at the time, waiting at home with the babysitter while her baby sister was being airlifted 250 miles south to San Antonio for urgent care. Noelle had arrived with spina bifida, and the specialized treatment she needed wasn’t available in San Angelo. We were part of the hippie generation, drawn to names that danced outside the lines. So we chose  Anemone Esther —a name as delicate and wild as a sea flower, full of meaning to us. We filled out the birth certificate with care, believing we’d chosen something beautiful. But when we got home and told Lizzie her sister’s name, she burst into tears. “You can’t name her that,” she sobbed. “I hate it.” We asked why. “Because I can’t say it!” she wailed. Fair enough. So we asked her what name she’d choose. “Noelle,” she said promptly. “I like Christmas music.” And just like that, Anemone Esther became Noelle....

  Precerpt from  Raising God’s Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) Noelle: Charming Ways Every week, I’d drive Noelle to Andi’s house in the Pittsburgh suburbs. It was our sacred little errand—part therapy, part friendship, part “Mom’s Taxi Service.” Noelle, my bright-eyed girl with crayon-blue eyes and leg braces that pointed straight ahead like tiny silver skis, would sit beside me in the passenger seat, chatting about everything from butterflies to Bible verses. One morning, I was running late. The kind of late where you start praying for time to bend like a Marvel movie. I zipped through the neighborhood in my bright orange car (which, let’s be honest, was basically a traffic cone with wheels), and in my rush, I missed a stop sign. The cop didn’t. Siren. Lights. Gulp. I pulled over, already rehearsing my apology and wondering if “I’m a mom on a mission” counted as a legal defense. The officer peered in. Noelle sat beside me, her braces poking forward, her blonde hair wispy as a whispe...