hope
Do not be afraid
Deanna Cook Fright, horror, panic, trepidation, dread, dismay, distress, aversion, dread, terror, anxiety, fear. Fear is what I felt 15 years ago the night our plane crashed. Fear is caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or is a threat. Sometimes fear is caused by the unknown. Sometimes fear is based on past experiences. We can all think of something that has caused us fear in the past. If being honest, we can think of a fear we have right now. I have a fear: it’s a fear of flying. I don’t sleep…
Read MoreBeneath the Surface
Trinda Jocelyn I have a love-hate relationship with writing. I enjoy putting pen to paper; maybe fingers to a keyboard is the more appropriate way to say that these days. I have a blog, which I have had for a good long time, but if you visit it, you will find the dates I write very sporadic. When I write, I feel like it needs to be honest and so when I do sit down and write something, I feel like people can see a little deeper into who I am and being a relatively private person, that leaves me…
Read MoreMy Path
Natasha Coroluick I never know where to start when telling my story. Everyone I talk to tells me to “start from the beginning”. Is that meaning to start with, “I was born on a chilly November day twenty-nine years ago.”? Or is it the beginning of where my life began on its path? I suppose I will start where it’s relevant. Twenty years ago I was new to small town living. My grandmother had passed away in the summer of ’95 and we moved into her home in Avonlea, SK. I remember our mom telling my sister and me that…
Read MoreFeel
Trinda Jocelyn The last real memory I have of my dad was the day that he left Quill Lake. He came to my school to say good-bye. He was in an old, red, late 70’s Ford truck. I was thirteen; I don’t remember the exchange of words, more the exchange of feeling. The bitter sadness ran through me as he hugged me through that truck window: this would be one of the last times in my entire life. Then he rolled up the window, put his eyes forward, and drove away; I was left to go back into the school…
Read MoreTo Be Okay in My Heart
Sheena Koops My hands are in the hot, soapy water; I can smell the orange fragrant bubbles, but my forehead is like a clenched fist and I swish each glass as fast as I can. I remember attending a mindfulness meeting and the facilitator said that washing dishes can be done mindfully. I breathe deeply, slowly into my belly. My tight temples relax. One more breathe in and I see that the bubbles are white and beautiful. One more breathe, seeking peace, but I just can’t slow my hands down, and pretty soon I’m thinking about the turkey soup I…
Read MoreOld Pages
Sara Pippus Anticipation hung next to the weather-worn tools in the back porch and chased her all morning as she waited on the fresh heat of spring to fill the yard. By noon, she could not wait any longer. Jill ran down the back steps, gathering her gloves as she went, and out into the blue and green swirling hues of the large back garden. Fear, mixed with joy, sat at the edges of her gentle brown eyes. She could almost hear her grandmother’s voice as the soft breeze brushed past her pale cheeks. This year, though, could be nothing…
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