How can a child look at little black ants crawling up and down the bark of a tree and become so fascinated?
There was a Man and a Woman. And there were ex-wives and ex-husbands. And there were friends and family giving the Man and Woman their advice on how the world should be. There were work conflicts and roommates with different points of view and there were bills to be paid.
And in the middle of it all was a Little Girl. Continue reading The Innocence of Children
Being a white boy, who grew up in the sticks of Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, I’ve had the privilege of kissing many a young woman, yet only three of them were black. Continue reading Sylvia
A continuation of the Roanoke story: down, almost gone, but not finished.
The Activity Director and her staff did a terrific job of scheduling creative activities for the residents of the home. There were dry erase boards at two of the nurses’ stations that listed the activities by day and by hour. Continue reading Permanent Marker-The Sequel
There’s a woman in town who now spends her days confined within the walls of a convalescent home. She’s well known to many a local, not by name or relation, but as that old black woman who’s always walking the streets alone. Continue reading Alone in a Crowd
The old saying that “money can’t buy you happiness” has been beaten to death; but the horse is still alive, for now.
One of the happiest times in my life was naturally one of poorest financially. Of course it was, or that first sentence would have been really silly. As a twenty-year-old, I lived in a cabin with a wonderful young woman, had two dogs, a canoe, and the river in my front yard. My net personal worth was around $173, depending on the day of the week. It went up on payday, down on the weekends. Continue reading The Cabin on the River (Part-One)