During a brief archeological dig in my attic I uncovered a box of words tucked into the eaves. Cards and letters tied with ribbons - tattered corners, ruffled edges. How carefully safeguarded they were in the wooden box that has protected so many memories - fragments of days and years and even lifetimes that have passed.
Read MoreI was a teacher for more than thirty years-a most noble profession. Teaching involves creating an ever-expanding family of kids and parents and grandparents-people you will never forget, people that you come to love.
Read MoreI was part of a big family in a small house-tiny really-three small bedrooms and one bathroom for eight of us-six kids and my parents. I spent some time sleeping on a cot in the hallway and even more time in a highly unfinished, musty basement.
Read MoreI was trying to access the patient portal and receive my medical information. One of the security questions was- “what was your childhood nickname?”
Read MoreA pair of Carolina wrens are boarding in our garage. We open the automatic door each morning and they hop out, fly to the river birch and often sing a song or two-a song of thanks-a song to each other-a song to welcome a new day.
Read MoreI have often thought that the word ‘yield’ could stand alone as a spiritual path
Read MoreAs a former kindergarten teacher, Valentine’s Day was a remarkable holiday. Children focused on their new occupation as mail carriers-writing out cards and carefully delivering them into the hand painted shoeboxes adorned with hearts and doilies.
Read MoreI don’t believe anyone would call me crafty. I knitted a hat once in girl scouts that nearly traveled to my knees. I have never been one particular about details…
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