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My Granddad planted a tree when my mom was born. He transplanted the sapling from his childhood home across the state. It was just a normal, average oak tree. But he loved that tree. “One of these days I’m going to die,” Granddad would… Continue Reading “Robert Frost’s Bloom — From My Archives”
>The road from Santiago, D.R. to Quanaminth, Haiti is a bumpy one. Up and down mountains. Past huts and towns. It’s quite the journey. I was on my way with a bunch of Dominican ministers to build a school. But they had other plans.… Continue Reading “>Sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying…”
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