On Sunday evening, we went to the riverfront. Below is a picture of the King's palace grounds across from the river. It is so beautiful, yet incredibly, outside its gates hovers much human suffering. We did what we could passing out balloons, playing games, holding the little children whose mothers are too busy selling to pay them any attention. … Continue reading Travel Journal:Cambodia 2
We all have at least one person in our life that try as we might, we cannot muster any affection for them. They rub us the wrong way. They embarrass us when we most want to impress. They show up when we are most tired and worn down. I have been begging God to help … Continue reading Love Is
When I was small, My mommy would make our daily bread, Her loaves were round-topped Golden, delicious softness. But still, I liked it better to make my own, She gave a lump of dough, Showed how to sprinkle flour, Formed her large loaf. I formed mine. And when, all baked, the loaves came forth … Continue reading Not Kneaded
I remember as a little girl, Wandering to the vacant lot in town, Stopping to pick the prettiest wildflowers, Then running them home to my mom, I don't remember what she said, But she kept them 'til they died, So, I know she must have liked them, And I knew, though flowers fade, Her love … Continue reading Flowers for Mom
. . . error is not a fault. It is an opportunity to learn.
Some call it tough love. "I feel like the big bad witch of the cloakroom!" I fume in stage whisper to my co-teacher. In establishing a new, fast-growing school, we have needed to find traditions and rules that are worth making and keeping. With half the school out at recess while the other half … Continue reading Bootlegging