You Are Special
You are special. You are infinitely, unbelievably, once-in-a-septillion-years special. That’s right, I’m talking to you, one of the nine-point-two people reading this.
Sean Dietrich
A Letter to My Wife
I’m going to be honest. In our two decades of marriage, I have never known exactly what our roles are. It’s never been clear to me. I’ve always been confused about hierarchy in our household.
The Best Christmas Movies
It’s hard to choose my favorite Christmas movie. Each time I try to pick one, I’m afraid I’ll shoot my eye out.
Christmas With The Guys
Tonight, I am playing with Three On a String for our annual Christmas tour. We will perform four times throughout the state of Alabama, singing Christmas songs, telling stories, and presenting our show to admiring crowds of dozens. Next week is Albertville. The week after that is—I don’t remember.
We Have Heard On High
It all started when Sandra was walking home from work. It was 1969. “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” was still in theaters. We landed on the moon. The top-40 hits du jour belonged to the Stones and Neil Diamond.
Almost Heaven, Charlie Brown
The snow in West Virginia clings to the world like shaving cream, covering every surface, every automotive hood, every interstate sign. In the distance, the blue Appalachians stand watch over the Mountain State, like mother hens, guarding their young.
The Tyrant of Second Grade
I was scared to death. It was my first day of second grade, and I was terrified to the point of regurgitation. “Please don’t make me go to school,” I begged my mother.
Story Time With Pajamas
All the kids were sitting criss-cross on the floor in a big hotel lobby, some sipping from paper cups of hot chocolate, most wearing pajamas.
A Special Christmas Love
She was a foster kid. Grew up in a group home. A place where you basically lived in a bunk. If you were lucky, you got to shower before the other kids drained the hot water tank.
How Amazon Stole Christmas
The Christmas season was the busiest time of year for delivery-persons. Drivers saw a major uptick in workload. This did nothing to improve John’s sunny disposition.
A Peace of My Mind
My wife and I read aloud from our little Episcopal book, standing before our Advent candles, using solemn voices. The dogs were seated around our feet, trying to interpret our human words, listening closely for words like: “Ham.”
Dennis the Determined
Dennis had a LOT of personality. He was fearless, as it turned out. It wasn’t long before he was charging into new environments, bumping around until he learned the layout of each room. Dennis loved to play. Also, he learned to walk, which was something he could barely do before.
A Musical Christmas
George wanted to be a musician. He was born to a working-class family. His mom was the daughter of a minister. His dad was a barber. His mom supported her son’s passion, but his dad was deadset against it.
Give Us This Day Our Daily Pumpernickel
Meredith is a good Catholic woman. A mother of three. A pillar in her church. So, I can only assume this story about her father is true, since good Catholics never lie.
Letters From the Children of Christmas Past
Letters from the children of Christmas Past. RHINELANDER, WI—1933. Dear Santa Claus, I am sorry I haven’t wrote before but my pet dog got his leg broke and I thought we would hafta have him killed but he will get well. …I am nine years old and bring me, dear old Santa, what you think …
A Holiday In Angola
It was quite a day. Not the kind of day you’d expect to have inside a prison. The holidays were fast approaching when the inmates walked into the prison’s Bible college room and were swallowed by pink.
Marigold by the Fire
My blind coonhound sits before our fireplace. Staring into nothingness. Caught in the darkness of her own visionless world. “Marigold,” I call to her.
Christmas Signs
Tony had become urban wallpaper. Almost invisible to civilized eyes. You see Tonys all the time. Standing at a stoplight. Asking for handouts. Most drivers just keep driving.
The Christmas Tree Lot
We arrived at the Christmas tree lot after dark. My wife and I walked the long aisles of pinery, scrutinizing each tree as though it were asking for our kid’s hand in marriage.
Little House in the Big Woods
It was Christmas Eve. Pa arrived back at the cabin in the wagon. His buckboard was loaded with crates and supplies. It was snowing heavily in the Appalachians that night.