Things Mr. Brown Said

Mr. Brown was about twenty feet tall. He had to be. He was the wrestling coach. Those were the days when a teacher could lift a kid up, turn him upside down, and shake the excuses out of him and not have anyone bat an eye--the days of the Breakfast Club and Ferris...

Risk and Resurrection: Stories of Spring

I told Declan the story of the Passover the other night. Too many people separate Judaism and Christianity. I imagine being a Jew in the time of Jesus--Romans, poverty, political turmoil. Being a Jew in the time of Jesus was sort of like being a colonist during the...

A 7 Year Old’s Guide to Facebook

"Hey, Mom!" said Declan. "I can post to Facebook and I don't even have one." I wasn't listening. There are two categories of things that come out of kid's mouths--things to ignore, and things we should notice. This was from the second category. The radar was...

Good Karma, or the Wrath of God?

New England has been buried under twenty feet of snow for a few weeks now. Maybe that's just my plow pile, or God's way of saying "Stop speaking in those silly accents. I can't understand you." He's frozen us in blocks of ice while he waits for our grammar to improve....

How I Get Out of Traffic Tickets and You Don’t

I was first generation that never sat at a counter at Woolworth’s. I never burned a bra. I didn’t need a bra but that’s beside the point. I wore mine dutifully with the other flat-chested girls who wouldn’t burn bras because we’d been liberated by our mothers. Girls...

Mysteries of the Universe

"Why do fancy ladies hate farms?" Declan asked. He woke up with this earth-shattering question on his mind. "I don't know," I said. "Seriously, Mom. Maybe they hate farms because they dress so nice and farms are dirty?" He insinuates I'm not a fancy lady. "Probably....