. . . for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his. . . – Gerard Manly Hopkins Long and leggy, doe-eyed, she walks with confidence, a gentle fawn, a young colt. He is all angles, sharp...
(How does an introverted mother make it through the long, cabin-fevered months of winter with four wild and wiley children underfoot? Why, she reads to them, of course.) This is the scene every morning and night at my house: me in sinking into a well-worn hollow...
He stood on one side of the wide doorway, between the cafeteria and cafe, and I sat on the other with my twin boys. An old man, he was drawn in by my little boys’ antics, “Sweet,” he called them. Right there he opened the story of his life, his...
“When you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” Isaiah 30:20 I’m thinking of the wee, tiny cubs, born blind and helpless in the dark den of winter....
Driving by the old house at night the windows glow on every side, a warm golden yellow. My eyes well up with yearning for home and I wonder, do the little birds that leapt so freely from their nests feel a pang of longing days, even weeks later, as they go winging by?...
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