I dropped off my parents at the airport last week. They were headed back to Peru, their homeland. While they’ve lived nearly half their lives in the U.S., the calling to Peru never seems to end. My Dad will be 80 this November, and he is more determined than ever to make the long and arduous journey to the Andean…
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Holding the hand of Jesus as a child
A few weeks after we arrived to America, my father took me to the Christian school where I would be going to school. I was 8 years old, and I remember walking into the school building and seeing this enormous wall painting of Jesus walking in a beautiful garden surrounded by children from all over the world. His face beamed…
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A Christmas Miracle
I was thinking recently of a Christmas eight years ago and the miracle that happened then. As often happens around Christmastime for me, I’m reminded of past Christmases and more often than not, it’s of some painful memory … memories when family members had Christmas Eve hangovers on Christmas day and how as a child I wished more than anything…
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Loving our parents at Christmas
I was at the mall this morning, the only one in our city and as expected it was crowded with Christmas shoppers. Amidst all the faces I saw hurry by in a blur, I remember one couple – an ordinary couple who seemed to be arguing over what to get at a toy store. The man looked tough with a…
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The Peace of Christmas
It’s going to be our 11th Christmas in Czech and like most everyone else, our family is busy getting ready and celebrating the season. The days go by so fast and so we are trying to go s l o w — to quiet our soul so that we don’t miss the babe in the manger. We made gingerbread cookies last night…
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