I wrote the paragraphs below thirteen years ago. The memory contained remains sweet. I met a dark-haired elf tonight. Loved him on sight. The enchanting child of God sat atop of his crossed legs in a miniature wheelchair, his hands stroking the air as though petting a kitten. His curious …
My daughter and I sat side by side on her RV couch, holding our cell phones. I had just complained about how often I misplaced mine. “Mom,” she said, “why don’t you just call it?” “Pardon me?” “Call it. It will answer you.” She reached for my phone and adjusted …
Tradition. That’s why Ezra, aged six years and eight hours, sits at our table, eying his breakfast: a vast bowl of Neapolitan ice cream. He chose that yesterday in the store, over my suggestions of more sophisticated options. “How about maple walnut? Black cherry? Rocky road?” But, no. He had …
Honestly. Sometimes when I sit down to write my weekly column I feel guilty. Our shattered world needs infinitely more than I offer. But there I go, every week for more than twenty years now, flinging out my five-hundred words to a few gracious readers. That’s you, there. Unfolding your …
We really do need each other. God made us that way. Genesis records that when he created the world and nature, he called it good. Yet, after creating Adam, he said, “It is not good for man to be alone,” and immediately created Eve. Because of COVID, most of us …
A large rabbit bumped its way across the street ahead of me as I walked the dog the other morning. Cash and I watched it make its funny zig-zag path in and out of front yards, then back onto the road, grey ears flapping, powerful hind legs pumping. I thought …
Honestly. Sometimes when I sit down to write my weekly column I feel guilty. Our shattered world needs infinitely more than I offer. But there I go, every week for more than twenty years now, flinging out my five-hundred words to a few gracious readers. That’s you, there. Unfolding your …
I wrote the paragraphs below a long time ago. Originally published as one of my early columns, they eventually landed in my second book, Practice by Practice. I sense today’s readers, at least some of them, need these words (lightly edited from the original) even more now. My earliest memories …
My beautiful travel mug, a gift from my boss, lay in pieces in the middle of 8th Avenue. It had managed to stay upright until my car hit the bump at the bottom of the driveway. Hearing a dull thunk, I glanced out the window and saw a strange cluster …
Most mothers have memories of Mother’s Day. But I have only one friend with this one: It happened two decades before COVID-19, when some stores (particularly florists) ran out of Mother’s Day merchandise long before the day itself. Families could take mothers out for dinner (if they were willing either …
