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Stranger at the pay phone

Stranger at the pay phone

“They’ve stopped the bleeding,” my husband said from an emergency room 600 miles away. “He’ll be fine. Just get here when you can.” Our five-year-old son had been hit in the head while taking golf lessons in our Dallas backyard from an unprofessional instructor – his...

Choosing Communion

Dipping a pinched piece of bread into a chalice of grape juice under a raised basketball hoop, I glanced at my daughters as they lifted the sacraments to their lips. Grace and I had driven an hour and a half north on an icy Sunday morning to go with Emmali to her...