It is only in framed space that beauty blooms. – Anne Lindbergh The haiku settles for doing, as I read it anyway, one very simple but crucial thing – it tries to put a frame around the moment. It simply frames a moment. Of course, as soon as you put a frame...
(Sophia, happy as a clam, in her Daddy’s pick up truck.) A heavyset, gray-haired man, short and jovial, honed in on my cautious, serious daughter the moment she arrived. She was eight or nine at the time. He was a volunteer at Vacation Bible School...
“I’m working on being more spontaneous,” she said with a straight face and all the seriousness of someone for whom spontaneity is struggle. She was one of my first mentors and the comment was made in passing, but it’s stuck with me for sixteen...
After the early morning flurry of getting the older two out the door and onto the bus, I reached into the refrigerator and gingerly slid out the cool, glass baking dish covered with a layer of plastic wrap and tinfoil. It was Sophia’s birthday and I was dropping...
(That’s my girl. She turned 10 this Friday!) I’m up to my eyeballs in laundry when my almost ten-year-old pops into the room. She’s been outside jumping, running, and playing with her brothers while I whirl between cooking dinner and the endless...
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