We never tired of Dad’s sledding story. We didn’t tell him ours, though.
He told me he was going to technical school – for machinery.
The terrorist attack in Paris brings to mind a first year in France, and one friend in particular.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like now if I’d stayed in Paris.
At a summer camp in China, U.S. teachers had an idea that may be resonating still.
As NATO combat troops prepare to leave, I ponder my attempt to establish ... scones.
As a child, I pitied her: No gifts would fit under that puny tree.
The crisis in Ukraine stirred something deep in my adopted son.
I’d never gotten a grasp on poetry. But Scout was truly passionate about it.
I felt so inadequate here. But growing taro was a way I could contribute.
Tribulation has created sharp-edged characters in Israel, and beautiful ones.
How do you bridge differences in ways that let you call a foreign place home?
The new printer looked like something that wanted my lunch money.
When I boarded the bus, I asked, ‘Is anyone here interesting enough to sit next to?’
Have you been in a school cafeteria recently? I have.
I’d resolved to become a Bostonian. But how could I feel that I truly belonged?
When is an herb too old to use? Just ask my husband.
It’s a short but important to-do list, with some critical don’ts.
One is remarkable for where it has been, the other for where I found it.
A surprise visit has me murmuring odd phrases at work, at the gym – everywhere.
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