The Mayan mountains are beautiful, the roads into them rugged, and the people are joyful and kind, not unlike Cook County and the Arrowhead. Still, I felt like a fish out of water, a reluctant ambassador from the north. My four traveling companions were splendid and made the path easy, but nearly 3,000 miles from home, I felt useless and... READ MORE >
She was a Norwegian farmer and her butter was more precious than gold. People said her cows loved her and gave her the very best cream that became the best butter when she churned it. But she did not stop with the churning, she fashioned it into beautiful sculptures. Firm yet soft, delicate and deep, the flavor made everything it... READ MORE >
The wind blew hard through the walls and windows of the ramshackle hut. It appeared the little heater was going full blast, but it was hard to tell, the cold far too deep for an inside place. Especially a place where small children lived. The hut was owned by a person of resources in the community. He had a number... READ MORE >
“Are you the only choice?” I explained that there was only one chaplain on call, making me the only choice. She had been brought in for perilous surgery, not great chances that she would live to see another day, to travel home to the people she loved. She told the nurse she wanted a chaplain, but assumed it would be... READ MORE >
“Beth will be the Christmas Angel this year.” Every girl in our little country school was dreaming of being the angel and with this announcement my heart sunk into the basement. The teacher did not bestow this honor because I had any special talents but because, she said, “Beth’s father is a pastor and so of course she has to... READ MORE >
On my dresser sits a small, intricate container that was given to my grandmother by a visitor from China. My mom was just a baby, unaware of the stranger who held her and shared a common joy with the mother she would lose too soon. Grandma died when mom was only 5 years old, but already she had given mom... READ MORE >
Mount Rainier called me by name, beckoned me to its high places. “No, you have to take a nap,” was not music to my ears. We were camping with a church group and my dad was about to take my big brothers on a walk to the mountain, leaving me behind. Somewhere between three and four years old, it seemed... READ MORE >
The black dirt made lovely pies, but growing vegetables really made it shine. When we moved to North Dakota, my parents began to garden. Peas and greens came first, showering us with spring in every bite. Pulling the first stalk of rhubarb, the crunchy tang shocked every last wisp of winter right out of my bones, later mom made pie... READ MORE >
The rope was long and it looked sturdy as it dangled from a huge, old cottonwood that towered over the river. I watched my brothers swing on the tire that sailed out over the river. The rope never broke, the bow that held it never gave way, and they did not fall in the river below, but it took me... READ MORE >
The ice ribboned in perfect splendor, stretching forever that winter. All things combined in harmony, cold fell in silence and stillness with no snow in sight, freezing the river quickly and smoothly. Suddenly I was free to skim the earth forever, only 8 years old, it seemed a gift too great to deny. I set off alone, glimpsing what it... READ MORE >
