Hurting People
For three hours the woman remained in our three aisle Health Beauty Aids section -- digging through vitamin bargain bins and stalking up aisles she had thoroughly perused only moments before; and for three hours I piddled around that area
That Azalea Summer
The first weeks of summer before the earth was baked into a brick and the humidity felt like a warm, wet blanket flung across the sky, farmers came rumbling over Springcreek Christian Camp in rusted tractors attached to equally ancient
Mennonite Modesty
One of the first things my parents did after our pilgrimage from Lancaster, Pennsylvania to Nashville, Tennessee in ’89 was to find an Amish or Mennonite community to reassure themselves southern savages weren't the only ones around. For my father,
Breaking El Shaddai
Three months after we moved to Tennessee, my Grandmother Charlotte was diagnosed with Stage Four Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Even when the cancer began nipping at my grandmother’s bones until more were broken than whole, Mother continued sending her prayer cloths made
The Mending Ground of Marriage
As I write this my husband, Randy, is hunched in a New Holland skid loader, grinding gears, scooping rich clay dirt into the bucket, jostling the machine back up the earthen ramp, and depositing said dirt into an ever-growing pile.