Acts of Kindness for DQ
Deanna Cook A few weeks ago, Dairy Queen had a promotion- free ice cream. I was leaving the gym; I had just completed a grueling workout after a full day of work. My only thought was to go home and relax. I waited at the bus stop, which was across the street from DQ and as I waited, I could watch the progression through DQ’s drive through. Never before, had I noticed such a long line up- that is what FREE will do. And as I watched the transit app on my phone, I became annoyed. My bus was late,…
Read MoreRoad Map
Hi ladies. I want to introduce you to, my friend, Jaimie Banks. Jaimie grew up as a missionary kid from the US. She lived in exotic places like Russia and Estonia. Jaimie has a sweet spirit and an amazing sense of humour. She is a servant and lives her life looking for places to go to serve Jesus. I am so pleased to have her share a bit of her journey with Sister Triangle. – Andrea Dad and Mom used to drive us cross country to spend time with family when the boys and I were little. We’d all take…
Read MoreFather
Andrea Muirhead In my family we love a good story! I’ve been told many times the story of my birth, of how my father drove my mum two hundred kilometers through a Saskatchewan blizzard so that my arrival would be safe in the big hospital in Regina. The neighbours got stuck coming one kilometer to pick up the big kids but my dad, the hero, and his super-Volkswagen, safely transported Mum and me to the hospital. Jesus tells a great story of an unlikely hero, a simple shepherd, a man who had 100 sheep. This story is not about the…
Read MoreTake A Number
By Sara Pippus Laney rips a number off the sleek red dispenser on the wall next to a long row of chairs. It has been a long day. Actually make that a long week…well a long life…she is only 24 and has lived and lived. Sometimes that is her only claim. She lived. The red number on the screen above the desk mocks us both a little as she settles into one of the chairs. Serving #263. The ticket in Laney’s small hands says #142. Maybe we feel more than mocked. More like defeated. Just like her life, this waiting,…
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 MoreSing
Jennifer Wallace Those who know me know that I love to sing. It is no secret. From a young age, I tried to emulate my mom by singing whatever line in a song she was singing in church. I sang along with the radio. I eagerly joined choirs, auditioned for musicals and singing groups whenever the opportunity arose. I still love to sing. I cannot help but want to join in when I see the African’s Children Choir in performance. I feel the same way watching YouTube videos of senior citizen choirs. How good it is to be united in…
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 MoreHow to Pack for a God Adventure
Janelle Ross You know how you are cleaning the refrigerator because your three-year old turned that irresistibly fancy dial to OFF and all the food went stinky and because you’re already cleaning a mess you pull out the stove too and wash the floor and then the wall behind the stove because yuck and before you know it you are ordering new carpet and looking at paint samples? No? Just me? I’m writing this in the midst of a big move, in the midst of a big mess, in the midst of big feelings and big change and big long…
Read MoreAs Long as the Grass Grows: A Treaty Song from Saskatchewan
Sheena Koops, Settler Descendant As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines As long as the river flows, through this heart of mine As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines As long as the river flows, through this land of mine They are living documents, First Peoples’ and the Crowns’ Building blocks of Canada, to which we are bound Sacred agreements, the pipe and the pen Brother to brother; peace, good-order to men As long as the grass grows, as long as the sun shines As long as the river flows,…
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…
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