I sit here at my desk in the early morning of 6:30 A.M. The smell of fresh bread in the air, because either Dad or Mom creaked out of their bed at some ungodly hour to put ingredients in the bread machine, and then to form the dough into loaves when it was mixed, and
Morning at the Miller House Read More »
A world happens in a week. At least in one of my weeks. In a week’s time, I might teach school; help with a garage sale; plan curriculum; help with cleaning jobs; wash the dishes; write lengthy emails; bake cookies; visit friends; attend church; dream about the future; take a sister out for supper; begin
A World Happens in a Week Read More »
What happens to change a person from the beginning of the year to the end of it? The changes are like the changes of the seasons, so natural as to be imperceptible. First the red buds on bare branches; then one day you notice the palest of green; and then the busyness of days overtakes
The Changes I See in Me Read More »
Dear Cheryl, You would have liked the balloons. There were dozens of them, massed together in colorful bunches and handed out to your little son Braxton’s cousins at your burial. I thought the children would let them go all at once, but they released them slowly, one by one, and we watched them drift up
You Would Have Liked the Balloons Read More »
I am young, not yet school age, sitting on a hay bale in the center aisle of the barn while Dad tells me a story. From my vantage point, I see only the back ends of the cows–their broad dusty sides and and manure-flecked tails, their constant shifting and switching while Dad moves in and
Crazy Monster Story Tellers Read More »