My dear boys, I read this book to you last night. You were very nice and soft to cuddle. When I read it as a little girl, I thought th...

Hanan, who has been fairly quiet in the past two years, suddenly decides it is time to start talking. He has been telling us about the littl...

I love snow. I lost my key, again . This time, we did not find it. It is still out there, somewhere. Buried in the snow. It must h...

Yohanan had diarrhea earlier this week. In those two days, I must have washed him every other hour. The poor boy was feverish at night. My l...

Years ago, I had a dear friend who had anorexia and bulimia. One night, very early in our friendship (when I didn't know about her eatin...

At the breakfast table this morning, Emeth composed his first poem. Chubby little fingers, Chubby little toes, Chubby little winter on H...

{in remembrance of the children in the African drought} The sink was full of dirty dishes. Books covered our floor like ill-fitted paveme...

{the story of Yohanan's birth} The stars sang the night my contraction began. We had been waiting for weeks, though in reality it was ...

When I drop Emeth off at Sunday School every week, I would walk by the nursery and usually, the kind ladies there would offer to take Yohana...