A bus ticket, a care package, a haircut — the items were small, the caring behind them enormous. A small seed sprouted and grew tall. Twenty readers share acts of giving
As we count our flames each night, do any of those numbers take on a life of their own? There are always some numbers in our consciousness that stand out — maybe it’s the number of children you were blessed with, the number of days a loved-one spent in the hospital, the number of years you
I pinched myself. Could it be that the entire Shafer crew is cooperating, smiling — and genuinely happy? Could it be that our family portrait is not a complete farce?