An embarrassing truth confronts us all. We first-world emperors have no clothes after all. Reassurances of our own lordship, the thoughts that have clothed most of us for most of our lives (we are what we make of ourselves, unconquerable, masters of our own destiny, no God necessary) have toppled …
Whatever the circumstances, sings Canadian musician Big Dave McLean, in his gravelly, Louis Armstrong-ish voice, “there will always be a change.” A friend didn’t expect her perfect grandchild to be stillborn. An acquaintance didn’t realize that following her simple biopsy procedure, she’d get a call to go directly to emergency. …
“What are you here to do for us tonight?” one of the 2007 Britain’s Got Talent judges asked, eyeing contestant #31829. There he stood, thirty-six years old, with an awkward stance and too many chins. He’d dreamed of spending his life singing. He knew he’d been born to it. But …
Thirty-six square feet. Nestled near our clothesline cross, under a towering maple, my tiny backyard retreat stands tall in the snow; a startling slash of crimson on an unblemished canvas. A tangible, colossal exclamation mark. The odd building with the duncecap roof and the screened lift-up sides sits just a …
I said a final farewell to a pair of beloved relatives this week: my father’s identical twin brother, Dave, and his wife, Dorothy. Though they died many months apart, their memorial service waited until relatives could gather. Gather we did, a collection of Neufeld cousins and friends from as close …
