[…] A memory and a yearly Christmas card from Mobile, Alabama. Crimson Circle. Kona Coast. Dream Walkers? Sue read on. Working in a safe and sacred place though conscious choice, clients experience a beautiful process […]
[…] health of the ward.” “No he didn’t.” “How would you know? You and the other deacons always read comics during ward business. I’m surprised Tim’s okay with that.” “I’m not okay with that! C’mon, […]
[…] “Rarely. I don’t think either of them know about Grace.” “He’s probably not eager to share the news.” “He still going to church?” “I’m sure.” “Of course he is.” Travis sipped his beer and […]
[…] where the water started. The tingling went clear to my skull, and I reached out to a world I had never known, something inviting me, as in my dreams. I left the house four […]
[…] be over it. The two older girls concerned him more. Suzette, his moody fourth grader, had al ready heard (she heard and knew everything) even before he came back from the hospital. She had […]
[…] the land, members everywhere would lovingly escort their neighbors and friends to WardAmerica meetings. Any reluctance to share the gospel would melt away like the hoarfrost before the morning sun. The Church would soon […]
[…] chew this for a while?” It wasn’t that we weren’t tempted. We were in the midst of World War II, and gum was hard to come by. You cherished each piece, chewing it for […]
[…] of squashed plums, pectin, and sugar; and I’d mopped the floor haphazardly before leaving for the skull reading. Sackler’s hands were cupping his chin. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “The gypsy had tapestries on […]
[…] I’ll have to pay your way to the conference next week; so then I’ll be the one breaking the rules.” “I’ll write home.” “You know that’s not the point. You know I don’t care […]
[…] as was his charge, the thorny distinction between wholesome amusement and wantonness. A sister rushed up with news of their earnings—fifteen yards of muslin, fifty-six pounds of flour, a gallon of molasses, and two […]