The Bridge

We gathered on a rainy Saturday afternoon at the visitor’s center for a hike to Terry Riley Bridge and the ceremony that would take place there. As rain fell and mud mucked, second grade Daisy scouts anticipated becoming Brownies. Under raincoats, the girls wore...

A ragged miracle

I sit by the Christmas tree – a ragged little miracle. The front lacks appropriate branches, and so the white goat on wheels lilts strongly toward the center, as do the handprint snowmen and jack-in-the-box. The wooden cranberry garlands hold on the best they can. We...

Christmas is for the broken

Every year I need to remind myself in the season of waiting that Advent is not truly the forced-happy and frantic countdown to Christmas that I can sometimes make it. Advent is anticipation and longing, the days of earth’s groaning and our own unmet yearnings....

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