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8A I DAWSON COUNTY NEWS I dawsonnews.com
Wednesday, May 9,2018
Dawsonville earns award for financial reporting
From staff reports
The City of Dawsonville
recently received the
Certificate of Achievement for
Excellence in Financial
Reporting from the
Government Finance Officers
Association for its 2017 com
prehensive annual financial
report, or CAFR.
According to a recent press
release, the certificate of
achievement is the highest
form of recognition in the area
of governmental accounting
and financial reporting, and its
attainment represents a signif
icant accomplishment by a
government and its manage
ment.
Instrumental in the city’s
receipt of the award is Hayden
Wiggins, finance administra
tor for the city, for his work
preparing the award-winning
CAFR.
The CAFR was judged by
an impartial panel to meet the
high standards of the program,
which includes demonstrating
a constructive “spirit of full
disclosure” to clearly commu
nicate its financial story and
motivate potential users and
groups to read the CAFR.
The Government Finance
Officers Association of the
United States and Canada is a
major professional association
servicing the needs of nearly
19,000 government finance
professionals, with its offices
in Chicago, Ill. and
Washington, D.C.
This is the third year the
city has won the award since
it submitted its first CAFR to
the GFOA in December of
2014.
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Prayer and a mother s faith
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Growing up, I never
realized just how much
my Mama probably wor
ried.
I knew she was over-
protective; I was her only
child after all. But I never
realized just how much a
mother had to worry
about until I became a
mother myself.
The minute I held that
little swaddled lump, I
instantly knew life was no
longer the same.
Things that I didn’t
even give a second
thought were suddenly
terrifying and anxiety pro
ducing.
I did all the child-proof
ing imagined, crawling
around on my hands and
knees, looking at things
from not just the eyes of a
curious child, but from
the perspective of a moth
er seeing possible dan
gers.
I had to make sure food
was cut into pieces that
would not choke, the
laundry detergent I used
on his clothes had to be
dye-and allergen free, and
I worried about the ingre
dients in the baby food.
I worried about every
thing. I still do.
Mama understood; she
has lived a life of worry
since I was bom.
Granny, however, had
no sympathy for me.
“You think you are the
first mother that ever wor
ried?” she asked me one
day. “You ain’t. You don’t
know worry.”
“I do know worry,” I
said. “How can you possi
bly know the depths of
my worry?”
I was in for an earful.
“How can I know any
thing about worry?” she
began. “I will tell you
what I know about worry.
I gave birth to a child that
didn’t live to his first birth
day. That’s a pain you
never get over.
Then, your uncle was in
Viet Nam.” She shook her
head, remembering that
time period. “My child,
my baby, was over in a
foreign country fighting.
And in the middle of that,
your mama nearly died.
She has only one func
tioning kidney, and it shut
down on her when she
was pregnant with you.
The doctors told me she
had a 1 in 100 chance of
making it through the sur
gery, and your chances
depended on if she made
it,” she said, her voice sol
emn as she lost some of
her normal constant anger
as she relived these previ
ous experiences. “And
that’s just a small fraction
of what I have worried
about. You think you are
the only mother that wor
ries? You don’t know the
half of it.”
I was quiet as I digested
all of this. I had heard all
of this before, countless
times, over the course of
growing up. This was just
the first time I had heard
it in the framework of
being a parent myself and
how that must have felt.
“How did you do it?” I
asked. “How did you get
through all of that?”
She let out a deep
breath, as if releasing the
weight of the world.
“I prayed. I think I
prayed from the time I
found out I was pregnant
with my first child and I
haven’t stopped. And I
won’t stop until my last
breath, either.
When Bobby was in
Viet Nam, all I could do
was pray. I couldn’t go
over there with him - if
they would have let me, I
would have. Believe me.
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
But I prayed all the time.
Some people’s kids didn’t
come home.”
Her voice caught a little
and she paused to re-cen
ter herself. “When your
mama nearly died, I had
to make a decision no par
ent should have to make.
For the doctor to try to
save one of you. I told
him you both would make
it.”
“How did you know?” I
asked.
“I just did. I had to
remember that God
doesn’t put more on us
than we can handle. And I
figured the good Ford
knew I couldn’t handle
me losing either one of
you.”
Granny had always
been honest with every
thing she said; a trait that
was a blessing and a
curse, depending on
which way she was driv
ing her message home.
But this was the most vul
nerable she had ever been.
“It’s just part of being a
mother,” she said.
“The worry?”
“That,” she said. “And
finding your faith. You
may think you’ve got it
before, but you spend
more time in prayer when
you become a mother
than you ever thought
possible.”
She was right. I think I
have spent the majority of
the last 13 plus years
praying, with just about
everything I say being
some form of prayer.
I seemed to remember
Granny praying as she
took me to school. It
wasn’t a big production, it
was just something she
did as we made our way
through town. I didn’t
think anything of it when
I was little but have found
myself doing it now.
Granny wasn’t the only
one who prayed. Mama
did, too, and, still does.
It wasn’t something I
heard her do until I was a
teenager, and then in the
stillness of the night, I
heard her prayers when
she thought I was asleep.
That first time I heard
her pray was before I had
back surgery. I was scared
but can’t even imagine
how scared she was.
She was terrified but
didn’t want me to know.
Hearing her prayers made
me wonder if I needed to
be more scared than I
was.
“Mama, am I going to
be OK?” I asked.
She smiled as she
rubbed my head. “Yes,
Kitten, you are going to
be just fine.”
“I’m scared,” I told her.
“Are you scared, Mama?”
She smiled again. “No,
Kitten. I know you will be
fine.”
She was lying, of
course.
Another thing I have
learned about being a
mama is, you lie like
crazy when you are fran
tic with fear because you
want to spare your child
from a second of worry.
From that point on, her
prayers only seemed to
increase. She prayed I
never got hurt, she prayed
when I was commuting in
college, she prayed when
I started working in
Athens.
She prayed when I
moved away from home
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and prayed when I didn’t
move back.
One of her texts the
other day, she just simply
wrote, “Praying for you
today.”
Somehow, in the middle
of my anxiety, that gave
me peace and comfort.
I think sometimes, as
our children get older, we
pray more because the
problems get bigger.
As mothers, it’s hard to
let go, even the tiniest bit.
Sometimes, it feels like
we are giving up any con
trol we may have.
It also feels like the
scariest thing to do, espe
cially in the world we live
in now.
I think that is what all
mothers do at some point.
We just take that deep
breath and pray.
Sudie Crouch is an award
winning humor columnist
and author of "The
Dahlman Files."
Last year, we welcomed 4,479 babies into the world at Northeast Georgia Medical Center. That means
we have 4,479 new reasons to celebrate this Mother’s Day. We are honored to be a part of such a special
milestone and hope you’ll choose us for yours.
4,479 new reasons
to celebrate Mother s Day
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