They should have left long ago, but they are still here. I check every morning, though the light is weak in the courtyard, my fingers stiff and the cold latch awkward. And every morning, they are there, sitting up on the branch, their feathered crests like crowns bright in the wintering daylight. I wonder if…
In case you missed them, the other parts of the Stories from Grace Manor series can be found here. We’re back in our corner of Grace Manor. We sit in our usual spots, with our coffee mugs on the table – our own mugs, since we’ve decided to be eco-responsible and bring them from home….
In case you missed them, the other parts of the Stories from Grace Manor series can be found here. Jan is away. He and Trynie are staying with their daughter for a few days. Bill just told us Jan isn’t entirely convinced he lost his license. “He told me,” Bill said, “he thought he had…
Our congregation’s annual picnic is now a memory. We had a wonderful day together. The weather was glorious, and nature was dressed in its finest. The water in the lake was just right – not too cold and not too warm; the beach was not yet crowded with Canadians when we arrived in large numbers….
This Friday morning, we’re back in our corner of the dining hall at Grace Manor. We usually meet at 10 and wrap things up around noon. I arrived at 10, but there was no one in sight. I went to the kitchen to check with Mary – maybe she knew something.
It’s still dark when I wake up. A thought pierces my heart: today is the funeral. Four days ago, on February 22, 1944, an American bombardment tore the heart out of Nijmegen, our city, and shattered our family by killing my eight-year-old brother, Jos. Jos is short for Josef, meaning “God adds.” Yes, God adds,…
My friends said that we should have a name for our coffee club, so we decided to call ourselves the Young People of Yesteryear (YPOY). Douwe, smiling, said, “The Y P bothers me a little. It’s more like how to P today.” We all laughed at that. “In the past, it was a stream . . .” he paused for a few seconds, until Broekie shouted, “of iniquities!” and without missing a beat, Douwe said, “Yes, now it’s more drops of blessing.”
Michael Shoemaker is a gifted, rising voice from the mountain west. His first collection, Rocky Mountain Reflections, is a heartfelt, thoughtful and oftentimes powerful debut. An ecosystem of engaging poetry, prose, short stories and photography, this collection may grow your faith, feed your soul and nourish your belief in the goodness of the human condition….
They’ve been dangling for weeks. If it was up to me, I’d have been on them in January, but the boss says it is better to keep ladder jobs until the end of winter. No point in slipping when you don’t have to. Still, all those forgotten strings of lights in the park are looking…
I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but my mother has changed a lot. She used to be one of my favorite people. Now all she does is ask questions, try to micromanage my life, and embarrass me just by being who she is. Of course, she still throws in an occasional hug, which –…
I was lucky Conroy was in his office, or in total exasperation I would have spilled it all to the secretary – that’s how angry I was. “He’s not coming back in,” I told the principal. “I’ve had it with the kid. He’s a jerk, and he’s pushed me over the line. He’s out of…
It had been another frustrating day in the lab, and I just wanted to get home. To grab a beer, drop onto the couch and watch another few episodes of Vikings of Valhalla on Netflix. A perfect segue to the weekend. “How many times can an experiment fail, anyway,” I thought to myself as I…
|
Uploaded
Failed
|
 |
