Reunions a sign of hope

My mother and father were opposites: she the eldest of eight children, he the youngest of nine. Assigned to cooking family meals at age eleven, Mom cut her teeth on the cookstove. Dad grew into manhood with every bite of food handed to him. Domestic to the bone, Mom...

Who’s Sweet Annie?

Years ago on a fair fall day, my sister-in-law and I wandered through a craft show in Grand Rapids with her first baby. Throughout the park, dappled light shone on vendors’ tents under old oaks and maples. The spirit of geniality triggered “nothing could be finer than...

Wondrous grace

Barely a year old, Mitty loves books. She jumps upon my bed every morning, rubs her cheeks on the edge of my journal and chews its ribbon glued to the binding. She paws my pen. “Okay, Mitts, I get the message.” I scratch her back from tail to head and hold her face in...

A writer, before…and after all

In Granny’s latter years, we’d sit at her kitchen table as night fell upon the mountains. There, in those hallowed moments, she unlocked the chambers of her large heart and granted me her most precious joys and sorrows. She spoke of her two newborn sons Grandpa buried...

Simple abundance

Years ago I spied my favorite pail at the Armada Flea Market. Light gray enamel with a graceful mouth wider than the bottom, it called my name. More a large bowl than a bucket, the utilitarian design includes two handles. The lathed, wood grip in the middle of the...