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Father and Daughter




Coffee and Conversation 3

Coffee and Conversation 3

He read to his daughter, the story of Joseph and his brothers, from the black winged arm-chair in the living room of the farm-house. He wore his thick black rimmed glasses. She sat on one of the chair’s extended arms and listened. He was teaching her the importance of...


  I heard the song of the cicadas outside my window and remembered the day we left Paradou. Jean Pierre held one between his fingers and told us how they live underground for seven years before emerging to life in that area of France. That’s how long it took me...

Little Van

A lot of miles were put on Volkswagons in our family—from Bugs to Carmen Ghias to Westfalia Vans—Dad loved them. My parents made many trips to Tucson in their white Westfalila to visit my sister and her family. Dad, the Eagle Scout, liked to camp, Mom liked hotels....

from life comes Life

Leave the  cocoon, a caterpillar flies Sleep to bloom, a morning glory must Shed its layers, a grain of wheat thrives Yes from life comes new Life, not death        

Morning Light

The storm passed through in the night and I didn’t even notice. I woke up this morning and the light in Dad’s room was on. He was sitting up reading his devotions as he used to do. He hasn’t been able to sit up on his own for a while....

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