Contents

Articles/Essays

Yesterday’s People



It would take a detailed map of Ethiopia to help you locate the village of Lalibela more than four hundred miles north of Addis Ababa. Save for a lyrically beautiful name, there is little to distinguish this place except that it contains some of the world’s most amazing monuments to religious devotion—the “mysterious subterranean, monolithic rock hewn churches,” as one travel guide describes them.



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Fiction

Interview

Letters to the Editor

Notes

Jacob and the Angel: Modern Readers and the Old Testament



If we simply open our eyes and look about us, it would seem that Amos got it wrong. In societies insulated by affluence, where life runs in routine and moves by diversion, it is visible that the word of God is something most people get along very well without. But in the lives of individuals and societies, tragedies befall, the comforts of routine and the anodyne of affluence cease to satisfy, and people are at length obliged to look for what supports life at its foundations. 



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The Unbidden Prayer



A few years back, I was assisting the Ethics Committee of a large metropolitan hospital. The second case on our agenda one afternoon was presented by a pediatric nurse. Two weeks earlier, a baby in…



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Mormon Laundry List



Mormons love telling each other what to do more than any group I know. 

When we meet up together at that great regional conference in the sky and the Lord reviews our collective performance at keeping the commandments, I think that he, unlike most of us, will start with our strengths and congratulate us for observing, to a man [person] and to a fault, the injunction to “give your language to exhortation continually” (D&C 23:7).



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Personal Voices

Poetry

Jonah in the Belly



So this is how you’ll preserve 
me, Lord? in a slosh of brine? 
Go ahead, though I’ve borne no fruit, torn 
loose from my roots and gone my own way. 



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Sheep Ranch Near Hillspring



She never speaks to him anymore. Her tongue
is as bone-dry as an irrigation ditch in winter, 
her ankles grimy as a crooked ewe’s. Dribbled 
wine and spots of sour milk stain her blouse, 
and now his lead sheep has given up the bell. 



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Guest Room



Our children were conceived 
            in a carved maple bed sent 
from Milwaukee on the train 
            by my husband’s grandmother in 1937. 



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Bliss



I trace my past life through hairdos: ringlets, 
pigtails, finger waves, straightened-on-juice-cans,
bouffant, French braids, and—worst—sausage rolls
flying back from my face like ditsy, exuberant wings. 



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Reviews

Volume Art

About the Artist: Bonnie Posselli



A native of Salt Lake City, Bonnie Posselli was introduced early by her mother to plein air painting, which she describes as her “abiding love and strongest asset.” She has traveled extensively to paint in…



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