I was mortified when my mother asked Glynn, a high school senior, to give me a ride home. Glynn had two sisters — Lynn, a freshman, and Flynn, a seventh grader like me. I never had spoken to any of…
A doorway to the sacred: Encountering God in the theater
In one of my oldest memories, my little hand is held firmly in my mother’s as we climb a long, wide staircase. We are dressed in our finest shoes and dresses, matching the elegance of the great chandeliers, plush carpeting…
spare your face the razor
*Author’s Note: For maximum poignancy, please listen to The Oh Hello’s The Truth is a Cave repeatedly whilst reading. You’ll thank me later. A few mornings ago, as I stood staring groggily into the poorly complected face stubbornly greeting me each…
Miss Jane
Officially, she had no children. Unofficially, she had scads of them. I don’t know of the children she shepherded as teacher and librarian. By the time I met her she was long retired. I know only of the countless children…