We Are. . . Family
I’m packing a shoebox for Operation Christmas Child to send to a child I’ll never see and never meet. I tell my daughters to imagine
(my daily blog)
I’m packing a shoebox for Operation Christmas Child to send to a child I’ll never see and never meet. I tell my daughters to imagine
This morning, my youngest announces that enormous dark birds cover the front lawn. That shroud of winged darkness descends to greedily feed, cracking open whatever
I watch with my own eyes how two rival teams come together midfield, kneel, and pray for several minutes while fans watch on in tears.
I’m volunteering in my daughter’s classroom today. Surrounded by flowers, magnifying glasses, and scissors, I’m told I should let the children observe, draw, and then
This morning, the neighborhood children call me over to a huge, gaping hole in the earth. Construction workers have dug down so deep, you can
This morning, my daughters walk to school holding the hands of another mother. They want to talk to her about everything ranging from new earrings
Campus feels heavy, quiet, and ashamed. What a strange contrast to the beauty and warmth of this fall day in Happy Valley. It’s as if
My daughter granted permission to relate the following story: I’m having dinner with the Italian Mama, and I explain how my daughter currently seems to
My daughters help rake the leaves into huge piles on the lawn. They use the tree swing to launch up and across the yard, releasing
The whole house smells of seasoned broth from a crock-pot of vegetables, chicken, and spices. A crock-pot represents that glorious Unseen Hand that takes all