I grew up with a little divided bank—there were three little spots for giving, saving, and “fun”, and one big spot for “goal money.” But my thrifty young self put a label over the “10% savings” and turned it into “10% goal”, allotting the 70% for savings. (The savings label has long fallen off, but…
It’s a story about a farmer and his family, making it an instant hit in our house. This particular farmer, like ours, grows a lot of things on his farm. But unlike our farmer, he also grows Christmas trees! The Pine Tree Parable is a sweet tale with cute pictures. On each page you see…
“I get the idea that you like green,” the painter said when he stepped into our house and surveyed our green bathroom walls, our blue-green kitchen walls, and the green paint on his hands. “This color can actually look more blue, depending on the time of day,” I laughed. “But yes, we like green.” Green…
Dear Grama, You always find the perfect gifts to welcome in each season of the year, be it Easter or Autumn or Christmas. And it was no exception when we saw you earlier this month. You know how we girls love our aprons. And you found the most adorable Christmas aprons for all three of…
We know Christmas is on the way when Lorrie starts reading the stories each Sunday. Each week, she has another story of a little shoe box and the life it touched in a big way. Each week, we realize that the simple things we take for granted could mean the world to a child around…
Two-year-old Mary Kate beats us to the punch: “Not. Tided.” she announces with punctuated finality. “Tided” of course is “tired”. And she’s most definitely not “tided”, since rubbing the eyes, fussing, whining, and nearly falling asleep at the table are all not signs of being “tided.” I’ll be the first to admit that I’m tided,…
“It snowed on the hills around us last night.” I think of the words from one of his letters each time it snows on those same hills again each year. I remember how much I longed to be with him then, to watch it snow and let him warm my hands, my heart. Today he…
“Do you remember where you bought this CD?” he asks, in the midst of the after-dinner cleanup and pickup. No, I can’t remember where I bought it. (We decided it must have been used off the internet, with the hole punched through the bar code.) But I remember why. It has that song on it. …
When I have someone to do the dishes for me, I remember again how much I love it. Cooking. Baking. Combining ingredients, tasting, testing, to make something satisfying and filling. Something to warm the soul and the stomach. Something that speaks love to my family and any guests. Something that tastes like home. I’ve been…
I’ve always thought of myself as an extrovert. But at Relevant last week, I began to question whether I really was as extroverted as I’d always thought. I shook hands and gave hugs and traded business cards with the rest. I made small talk with the ladies at my table and even went up to…
“I picking up so very well.” Mary’s statement is meant to draw attention approval. Even though she’s just grabbing everything scattered all over the floor and stacking it on the diaper bags that I have yet to put away. At least she’s trying. It’s better than stumbling on the toys that so often litter the…
I’m a farmer’s wife. Our days are anything but predictable. He might be home at 11:45 a.m. ready for lunch. But some days, it’s 3 p.m. And when I have dinner ready early, he’s late and unable to call. When I assume he won’t be home until 15 or 20 minutes until after he could…
The End.
The End.