I’d texted in a panic. That quick, she’d called, hearing me out and walking me through. Then she said it, the nugget-truth that turned on the light:  “He always intercedes

“Dear Resident Cricket.” That’s how the note began. “After weeks of your cheerful little ‘songs of praise’ down there in the hinterlands (i.e., the basement), I can hardly remember my

Sitting “criss cross, applesauce” in a circle around her, Auntie would pull us right in. Eyes wide, she’d begin, “We’re going on a bear hunt.” And eyes wide, we’d repeat

It may be one of the strangest stories of the year. In Amherst, Ontario, recently, a 34-year-old woman accidentally ran a marathon. A Canadian wire service, Postmedia News, reported that

“Look how tall it is!” I’d said in wonder, noting the unusual height of the corn (thinking, you see, of last summer’s drought).  The beans, too, had flourished, laying row

It comes on a crisp, fall day. There we are, perched on a sidewalk just before that famous pie. Peering through the plate glass window, it stretches as far as

FacebookTwitterGoogle+DiggPinterestBloggerAt the school just up the road, the room is packed. It’s National Anthem Day, and the gym’s awash in a sea of red, white and blue. I slip in

Overhead on a blanket of night, they shine. A thousand thousand stars, pinpricks of gold sprinkled near, scattered far.  They’re all shining, bearing witness. I breathe it in, all this

The headlines have been full of it. With things heating up in what some call “the big sandbox over there,” the nation is looking to President Obama, his minions and

Sitting there at the round corner table, small lamp spilling gold across the page, I quiet. He speaks, that shepherd boy of old; speaks for me: “Restore us, O God;