Linda Henry

We were not what they call regular churchgoers, my family of origin. I was raised Presbyterian, sort of. For us that meant we religiously attended services for six weeks when I was in the fourth grade in order that I might receive a free Bible. After that, my dad refused to get up early on weekends. (more…)

This passive-aggressive driving has got to stop. And if it arrives to my right at a four-way stop, it must go. It’s the law. I live in a suburb, where under the guise of Minnesota Nice, my fellow drivers are driving me crazy. Just this evening, I came to a four-way stop. I was making a left turn. The driver opposite me, who arrived at the intersection at the exact same time, was going straight. He made the international gesture for “No, you go”—a sweep of the hand pointing me in the direction I was turning, as if I didn’t know. (more…)

My friend Megan says Bethlehem needs their peace flame returned. My family became stewards of the flame, or the flame of the flame, almost by accident on Christmas night. We went to our usually Sunday-night church service. After Rev. Russell’s message (on the need for more irony in the world), and a rousing rendition of The First Noel, a voice cried out from several pews behind us: (more…)