The Butcher’s Violin

A True Story from Home There it was, lying in a black case on the quilt like a closed casket.  โ€œWell, open it,โ€ she said quietly.  I unhitched the clasps and cracked it open to see a dark violin lying in green velvet. It was coated in dust and rosin, its strings were frayed, and … Continue reading The Butcher’s Violin

It’s Recipes We Remember

I don't know if my great-great Grandma Howard was a round woman, or if she was as twiglike as my great-grandma Wanda, or if she had my grandma Karenโ€™s smile, or my dadโ€™s love of German chocolate cake. I only know what Dad remembers, and that is her cinnamon rolls. They were doughy to their … Continue reading It’s Recipes We Remember

A Light in the Valley

Mavonโ€™s dad knew he was dying. He didnโ€™t want to leave them here on the farmโ€”Mavon, her brother, and mother, but he was ready to be with Jesus, and he reminded them from his deathbed:ย  โ€œWeโ€™ll just be separated for a short time, and soon, weโ€™ll be together again.โ€ There was something elseโ€” โ€œHe told … Continue reading A Light in the Valley

Eight Thirty or So

For Papa Jay on his 88th Birthday, Labor Day 2023 You told me โ€œEight thirty or so,โ€ but of course, you meant eight, And I knew youโ€™d been up a long time before then Because I ran by at dawn And saw the old hurricane lamp was on in the kitchen And the storm doors … Continue reading Eight Thirty or So

Quiet, Little, & Long

This article was written for and published on The Christian Manifesto blog. โ€œWhat do you want to do?โ€ people wanted to know as soon as I finished high school. It was a problem, because I was already doing what I wanted to do. I was writing. I was teaching in my local church. I was using my … Continue reading Quiet, Little, & Long

For the Beekeeper

May you wake to the sun that wakes the bees in their boxes and by which you can see your work and spot the queen laying her eggs in golden wombs of light. May you hear the hum of all twenty-nine colonies and may it harmonize with the song of the robins and the breeze … Continue reading For the Beekeeper

The Mortification of Squash Bugs

One Sunday morning last summer, I came around the corner to the coffee pot to find Sammy and Mr. Bill looking befuddled. When Sam saw me, she said the words squash bugs, and at once, I understood. Any gardener in July would. โ€œMy zucchini plants were beautiful,โ€ she said, โ€œand just like that--- gone.โ€ โ€œI … Continue reading The Mortification of Squash Bugs