Playing the memory card game with a four-year-old is different: when he picks up a card, he wants to keep looking til he finds the match. If I pick a card he really likes, he wants me to surrender it to him so he… Continue Reading “Never Fall”
I love makeovers – an old house becomes dream home. Sepia tone photos restored in color. A caterpillar becomes a butterfly. The old or unsightly made new. Lots in our world could use a makeover: tyrannical or corrupt governments, crime torn communities, false religions,… Continue Reading “Before & After”
My hands are starting to reveal my age. I can still picture my mother’s hands and I adore my daughter’s hands, beautiful. Their hands and mine have changed countless diapers, cooked countless meals, and wiped up countless spills. They are hands that have cuddled… Continue Reading “Open Hands”
It is curious that we have managed to confuse what is and isn’t life. Whether something is alive or just a bunch of cells. Seems like many have more regard for a single celled amoeba than they do for a miraculously growing baby. These… Continue Reading “Alive”
My husband complains he hears traffic at night even though the highway is a mile or so away. I don’t hear anything at night unless he snores. Our world is noisy. Even in the quietest night, the buzz from electrical appliances and hums from… Continue Reading “Silence…”
After a week away from me, my four year old grandson hugged my legs tightly, a week was too long. My closest friend lives across the country, our times together are few, we beg for time to slow down when we get together. Looking… Continue Reading “Together”
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