My mum just sent me a package of letters I wrote to Mamie as a gal. So many of them are terribly, soul-crushingly embarrassing professions of my love for God, describing how I was spending a lot of time “praying for people in different states who are starving”.

Here is the least embarrassing of the God-bothering notes. To explain, the “rub here” refers to an invisible ink texta I liked using. I did not think Jesus was a genie.

But some of are cute insights into my little brain.

I miss writing letters to her.