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Two Stones of Goodbye

In my dream, I’m visiting a dear friend whom I don’t often get to see. Each hour of our time together is precious.

As our reunion is nearing its unwelcome end, we hear a soft knock on the door. Answering, we find Katie, an itty-bitty angel, not even five feet tall. In waking life, I know her as a woman in her late eighties, a mother of twelve, a longtime hospital chaplain, a lover of the arts. Her short-term memory has turned into a sieve, too holey to hold much of anything anymore. But her heart remains a huge earthen bowl, capable of holding the world.

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Reminders to Remember

A friend shows me a beautiful potted mum. Its rich orange-red buds have burst open with vibrant sprays of sun-yellow at their center. The plant—of a variety called “Autumn Sunset”—is simply gorgeous. “The garden center…

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Lay the Hammer Down

Imagine yourself holding a hammer.

Now, strike your hammer against a big pane of tempered glass.

Watch the glass shatter into thousands of crystalline pieces, dropping all around your feet.

Hear the initial crash of their fall. Hear the gentle tinkling in the silence that follows, as bits of glass sink and settle.

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Of Poets and Moss Piglets

Eden is nine years old. Her family lives across the street from Annette Langlois Grunseth, a dear friend of mine who, in her seventies, is a beautiful ball of energy.

Eden and Annette have turned into a dynamic duo. You see, Eden, a fourth grader, wants to be a writer someday. And Annette just happens to be an award-winning author and poet.

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