As they pulled up at home after a jaunt to the grocery, another car scuttled out the other end of their driveway.
They didn’t recognize the vehicle or the figures who had hopped in a split-second earlier, but the action certainly was suspicious.
Then they found one Christmas wreath on the ground beside the barn and another, still hanging on the white clapboards, with its wires quite bent.
Yes, two people were trying to steal the Christmas wreaths from the siding!
Kinda puts a damper on that “goodwill to men,” doesn’t it? Though the phrase is, more accurately, “to men of good will.”
We’re still baffled that some people have so little conscience that they’ll resort to this, but maybe they’re desperate to veil themselves in images foreign to their real nature.
Um, look around, though, and it’s far more universal than I want to think.
This points toward the hard work of changing hearts and actions – literally, repentance – that the life of Jesus embodies.
Well, I won’t go off on that sermon just now. But we are still saddened by the audacity of ill will.
yogurt and toast
with coffee and juice
meditate / pray
not that it turned out quite that way
Across New England, the spire on city hall typically had prominent clock. Its purpose, I’m told, wasn’t just civic pride.
No, it was to keep the mill owners in check, just in case they were tinkering with their own clocks to squeeze unpaid time out of their workers.
It’s comforting to know the town fathers could stand up to corporate powers. Most of the owners, by the way, lived far from these sources of their wealth. Many of them were Boston Brahmins clustered around Harvard.
In honor of the workers and those who stand up for them, Happy Labor Day.
Mrs. Richardson had been yelling at the kid the fifth-grade girl who came around to our door begging money to pay the babysitter Mrs. Richardson yelled at the grandchild for three days, and spanked her then they were crying, in different parts of the building all the while, their phonograph repeated “the angels sing, glory […]
When someone speaks of an event while quoting someone else, how accurate is that quotation? How much is a recasting by the teller, perhaps years after the event being related?
In drafting my newest novel, as I turned to a first-person narrative by someone who never even met many of the characters she’s telling about, I realized that her quoting them was actually a filtering through her own voice. In other words, the precision of their voice was in question. Would it be right to put their input in quotations marks? Or eliminate the quotation marks and let the telling float in and out of some recollection?
I’ve opted for the latter. Will it work for the reader, though? We’ll see.
A three-year-old girl held a life-size Mr. ZIP’s cardboard hand in her own while waiting for Daddy or an interior lobby stoplight to change. Can we go now? These days, she must be my wife’s age. To continue, click here. Copyright 2015
“George’s problem is he’s too affectionate – he expresses himself” one woman confided loudly in a restaurant unlike the usual complaint To continue, click here. Copyright 2015