A long day’s journey into night…

When we were growing up, my mom used to recite for us, by memory, the tale of the “Little Small Red Hen” which tells the harrowing story of the hen’s encounter with a villainous wolf, and ends with: But the Hen lived happily, just as before,In her dear little house by the wood,Walking picketty-pecketty,Working as

They are precious in His sight…

Even as a lover of words, my vocabulary fails me in expressing the frustration, grief, and RAGE I feel about the thousands of families that my nation’s government has torn asunder: children ripped—in some cases permanently—from the arms of their parents. The federal departments overseeing this human rights violation have not kept records and have

A walk to remember…

I love visiting the grand old city of New York: the sights, the sounds, the smells, the energy that permeates the place; it is a paradise for a people watcher such as I. In particular I enjoy watching people walking dogs and pushing strollers, I suppose because those are two of my all-time favorite activities.