A Little Life Remembered

Mis-Carry.  I don’t like this word.  It implies that I carried this baby differently.  But I didn’t.  My womb had an open door, the baby came in, and I accepted the life with the same fear and trembling, the same joy and wonder, the same gentle reminder that God is the creator and sustainer of…

On Childhood

Sometimes I wonder what my children will remember about their childhood. I look back on my own childhood as a glow–colored by bright black-eyed susans and zinnias of every color in my Daddy’s garden.  I’m the youngest of nine children, and almost all of my childhood memories are centered around my family and home.  My…