One day early this summer my teenage son asked to host a party. Friends from camp lived far away, so they’d stay overnight, he explained. How many for the party? “Not many,” he told me. “About 30.” “Uhuh,” I said. “And the overnight? “Not many,” my dear boy repeated. “About 15.”
Of summer camps and Olympic ceremonies Read More »
They don’t say it in schools in Ontario anymore, of course, but in the day, they did, we all did, day after day, year after year, right alongside the playing of God Save the Queen, the prayer that is The Prayer, the one that is called the Lord’s Prayer. By the time I finished my
I believe in you. I love you. I am here. Read More »
She’s a scholar of the Old Testament and her reading glasses sit on her nose, and then she takes them off, and then they’re on again, and she’s talking about hope and my son Jonathan is here in the group of adults because he has asked if can stay. The rest of the seven-year-olds, known
Children and hope at one crossroads or another Read More »
