A Little Bird
I was on the way to the shed. Walking through the yard. I saw something in the grass. It was fluttering in the weeds. I could see its wings.
Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
I was on the way to the shed. Walking through the yard. I saw something in the grass. It was fluttering in the weeds. I could see its wings.
The old man showed up to visit his granddaughter in the pediatric oncology wing of the hospital. He walked into his granddaughter’s hospital room. The little girl’s face turned 101 shades of thrilled.
Building wealth over generations for relatively little initial investment. Can’t ask for better.
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.
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?”
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 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. 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 …
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.
Nobody could explain how it happened. But one day, Willy sort of lost his mind. Namely, because Willy walked into the kitchen and declared that he was a chicken. Not a proverbial chicken, mind you. But literal poultry. The kind that go bawk-bawk, cock-a-doodle-doo, and all such manner of clucking.
A little girl rescued a turtle from a busy highway. This happened yesterday afternoon. Moving a turtle is not a remarkable sight, really. It happens every day, somewhere in the world. Somewhere in the known universe, a rural kid moves a turtle off the highway. I have been that kid myself. Many times. Maybe you …
Before the boy sat a massive meal. Bacon. Eggs. Huge glass of chocolate milk. Stack of pancakes bigger than a midsize SUV.
Have mercy on Minneapolis. On Minnesota. On our country. Have mercy on those of us who are angry, God. Mercy on those of us who weep. Mercy on those who mourn.
Dive deep into your brain and locate your mental elementary-school yearbook. Flip through the pages. Find that cute black-and-white photo of yourself with that gap-toothed smile and enormous ears.
Last we met, we discussed how President Lyndon Johnson’s War on Poverty, his “Great Society,” had led to the impoverishment of the Black Family and its ultimate dependence on those programs. At the very end, one aspect we noted, was the deleterious effect those programs had on the institution of marriage—and its concomitant growth of …
Yavapai County, Arizona, is a lot of dirt, rocks, and heat. I spent a few weeks outside Prescott once. The heat index was 140. It was so hot the Prescott Daily Courier reported that local chickens were laying omelettes.
She was 10 years old. She got kicked in the leg, during P.E. class. No big deal. Happens all the time. But her leg started doing weird things. Something was definitely wrong. “My leg started swelling, almost the size of a baseball,” she remembers.
I want to tell you a story. In February of 1979, a 7-year-old named Chris Grecius, of Scottsdale, Arizona, found out he had leukemia. It was the end of the world. No, it was worse than that. It felt like the end of a family.
At 10 o’clock a.m. on Sunday, I am going to be praying. You will find me on my knees. Praying for them. Ten o’clock. Because of 10 victims. Ten precious souls. Ten battered children, and probably more.