What Christmas Means to Me

Christmas, only a few days away, beckons me to pause, just for a moment. I sift below the glitter and finery. I dig down deep to a mystery - messy and gritty. I remember what happened last year. And then my heart soars with joy. This, this is what Christmas means. For those of you who read this…Read more What Christmas Means to Me

Just to Touch the Hem

Nairobi, June 2005 She refused to eat. Her forehead felt warm. She cried incessantly. Nothing alleviated her discomfort. As a sojourning foreigner, I lacked even the name of a pediatrician in Kenya, much less contact information. Even if I knew who to call, I couldn’t easily access transport. My one solace – I knew that…Read more Just to Touch the Hem

Beautiful Wound

He studied my face, streaked with happy tears. His little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then he leaned on my shoulder and melted into my embrace. For days after, if he was awake, he was in my arms. Only his new grandma would suffice in my place for brief periods of time. Bonding between me and…Read more Beautiful Wound

Embracing the Flow of Summer

Summer, a time for being. A time to let the mind drift with a hot air balloon from upper cloud strata to wispy meadow, to sink into the hazy heat of an afternoon baseball game, to traipse through the laughter of children licking icecream, to watch and wait and listen. Doing, producing, achieving - companions…Read more Embracing the Flow of Summer

Of Birds and Parenting

Scampering around in the grass barefoot, my son suddenly squealed and leapt for the concrete patio.  I went to inspect the source of his alarm:  a quivering huddle of feathers. He assumed it was dead like another hapless victim, a naked nestling, we found earlier that evening on a nearby rock. But as I knelt…Read more Of Birds and Parenting

Do Dogs Go to Heaven?

If dogs wore clothing, Rico would have been a tuxedo-clad gentleman. I'm sure he would have played the saxophone in a jazz band. Rico, a brindle greyhound, came into our lives most unexpectedly. A co-worker rescued him after he retired from racing, but shared her concerns about keeping him in her apartment. My husband and…Read more Do Dogs Go to Heaven?

For Love of the Game

When the clatter of life presses in, I step through that stadium opening and every worry fades in a sun-wash across my eyes. Like laundry bleached white, the day flaps in the breeze, bright and full of possibility. Rows of metal bleachers guard the perimeter, keeping watch with the outfield fence proclaiming, “Welcome to the friendly confines of…Read more For Love of the Game