Please Raise Your Hand
“What scares you most?” was the question asked to members of Mrs. Devonshire’s fourth-grade class. The little hands went up.
Children
No, There’s No War on Christianity, Not at All!
The cited article below comes from The Irish Times, published in Dublin, and what passes for the only newspaper of record in that heavily Catholic country. Of course, that heavily Catholic country has also legalized homosexual marriage and prenatal infanticide, so . . . . Sunday, January 11, 2026, is in the calendar of …
Making Virginia’s Constitution an Abortion
Every abortion is a bloody mess. Virginia Democrats are making a mess of the Virginia Constitution with a “Right to Reproductive Freedom. They’re determined to make killing a baby in the womb an “individual” right.
Little Orphan Annie
When you’re having a bad day, think of her. She was born in Agawam, Massachusetts. One year after the Civil War. The daughter of Irish immigrants.
The Beautiful Patient
The 20-year-old girl is sleeping when we enter her hospital room. But her mom tells us to come in anyway. I’m carrying my fiddle case. My friend Bobby is carrying his banjo.
The Righteous Hunter: Because Protecting Children Is a Holy Calling
America has officially reached the point where a country singer has to remind a billionaire music mogul that he does not, in fact, own the souls of America’s children.
You in a heap o’ trouble, boy!
No, Adrian Gonzales, pictured to the right, is not your typical criminal. Rather, he was the police officer stationed at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde County, Texas, who channeled Scot Peterson, the coward of Broward, and chose not to confront the shooter who killed 19 students and two teachers during the shootings. Trial begins for …
The Rebels With a Cause
There were 26 of them, altogether. High-school kids. Not one cellphone among them. Neither were there TVs, airpods, gaming devices, or tablets. No tech at all.
It was a party.
The Hospital
In the elevator is a little boy and his mother. They are both carrying overnight bags. Mom looks like she hasn’t slept in eight years. The boy looks worried. He’s so serious. “Mom?” the boy asks. “Do you think Caleb’s surgery worked?”
December Birthdays
Mama asks if I’m having a good birthday. I nod. But I don’t mean it. I’m quiet. I’m always quiet. Ever since my father died several years ago, I just stay quiet. I don’t know why. Not much to say, I guess.
Morgan’s Prayer
Dear God, I know you’re super busy. I know you have people bending your ear at Christmas. From every corner of the planet. Every second of the day. And I know how fussy people can be this time of year.
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.
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.
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 …
Sometimes You Just Have To Be an [Insert Slang Term For the Rectum Here] To Do Things Right
The tweet screen captured to the right is just one of hundreds, if not more than hundreds, aimed by the pro-Palestinian, pro-Hamas sympathizers and bots trying to pull on our heartstrings, at the plight of the poor, poor Palestinians, and the children! to generate relief aid and, of course, hatred of the Jooooos. I have …
The creepy songs of our youth
While today’s kids twerk to songs featuring men calling women bitches and ho’s and stuffy to nasty to post here, we baby boomers smugly tune in the oldies stations to listen to the wholesome, romantic songs of our youth.
The Tryouts
The Little League team was good. Really good. The nine mop-haired, lanky boys, clad in classic ‘70s harvest-gold uniforms, were undefeated this season. They had a shot at the pennant. But then, devastation.
Some Kinda Kindness
The mid-80s. Detroit. The boy didn’t have much. He was one of those teens most people won’t notice. Each day, he walked to and from school with a ratty backpack on his shoulders, containing a pitiful lunch he made himself, since he had no mother to prepare meals.
A Knitting Story
One day, a little girl visited the old woman’s house and asked for knitting lessons. The old woman was thrilled, of course. But the little girl was exponentially more excited—the child looked like she was going to detonate right there on the woman’s doorstep.
Be It Ever So Humble
The old man answered every persistent question with patience. Then, the conversation took a turn toward the philosophical. It is a well-known fact that 8-year-olds are philosophers.