Ginger Bias
In light of all the negative headlines, civil unrest, and the international political upheavals, I know many of you are anxious to know what I did for National Kiss a Ginger Day. Or maybe you missed this particular holiday.
Inspiration
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.
Our Father
Help us to love one another. Help us to find beauty in each fellow human being. Beauty within each soul who crosses our path today. Teach us to find beauty in our enemies.
Providence
The old timers in my childhood used a word I never understood. The word was “Providence.” The old timers couldn’t give me an exact definition of this word. Probably because it had more than two syllables.
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?”
The Great Generation
Carole’s mother was young. Twenty-two years old. She was married and pregnant with her second child. The year was 1945.
The War was freshly over. The Depression was still a recent memory. Carole’s mother wanted to buy her husband a gift for his birthday. He was turning 25.
Amazing Grace
This church is 115 years old. It’s small. Impossibly small, only able to fit 25 people—30 people if they are scrawny. The church is nestled in Appalachia, and looks like a postcard.
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.
Break Glass When You’ve Tried Everything Else and Nothing Works: Why Your Life Still Hurts And Sucks — And How to Start Over Without Losing Yourself
If you’ve tried everything else, try the one thing that isn’t just another version of you trying harder. Try grace. Try the One who actually knows you.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
The Sentinel
The Sentinel There exists a chamber in the garret where all the secrets dwell, slumbering beneath the dusty shrouds meant to conceal them for eternity. The passage, a narrow one, remains barricaded, padlocked and bolted, defended with the strength and stamina, the fervor and fortitude, the power and potency, the brawn and bravado of a …
The Little Girl and the Gardener
The following is a true story. The little girl was walking with her mother. They were taking a stroll through the hospital garden, bathed in the dappled sunlight of early afternoon, looking at all the flowers in bloom.
My Little School
It was late. I pulled into the campus after seven o’clock to attend my last class of the semester. My last college class. Ever. It was a night class. In America, most self-respecting people my age were finishing supper, settling down to watch “Wheel of Fortune.” But I was in school. I had been attending …
In the Matter of… Why I use ‘Levels’ instead of ‘Years of Age’ by Smitty
American Citizen Writer, Colonel (and Medical Doctor) U.S. Army Retired, offers up an inspirational anecdote about continuation of public service…after service.
Prisoner No. 16670
The year is 1941. The place is Auschwitz. His official name is Prisoner Number 16670. But his real name is Max. Max isn’t old, but he looks ancient. Prison camp will do that to a man. He is here because he was caught sheltering 3,000 Polish refugees—half of whom were Jews.