cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My mother hated my first book. Shortly after it was published, her sister asked to meet with me, and observed that the woman who wrote it was very angry. I believe my aunt was quite surprised when I agreed with her. I remember the morning well.
Read More
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll expose you to the virus?” “Are you crazy?” The phone calls from friends and family were kind and filled with concern for our wellbeing. My answers at the time? “Sometimes,” and “No.” Riding in the waves of news of the pandemic, I felt assured in my decision to offer two young…
Read More
I had run out of ideas of how to get through the chaos that was building so that we could help the children learn. I wanted to quit and felt like a complete failure. My principal, though, was wise and kind. She listened intently, saw both my despair and my goodness, and simply responded,
Read More
The musical score danced in my ears as I remained in the theater seat, soaking in every last note. Salty tears reflected my state of being over the previous two hours while I sat watching Little Women. My thoughts diverted as my mother’s friend approached me. Her smile preceded her question.
Read More
“So, how did it actually feel to have dinner with a serial killer?” my colleague at the law firm asked. Shuffling depositions between color tabbed manila folders, I quickly changed the topic to billable hours for a client. I’d avoided this topic for so many years. Even when an author asked permission to use the…
Read More
Compassion is innate, not simply a spiritual sense.
Read More
I was in the parking lot of a local grocery store when I saw a couple who were obviously, “on the road.”
Read More