Untitled Document
They speed by on Interstate 55, cars a blur, on their
way from one metropolis to another. A world outside their windows flashes
by, perceived as a
Untitled Document
Linda Ketchum clutches photographs of five smiling
kids decked out in costumes that span the colors of the rainbow. She fights
off tears as she flip
Untitled Document
Adin Davis stands on a
brightly colored mat decorated with numbers, letters, and shapes in the
center of a packed room that’s growing more cr
Untitled Document
The autopsy confirmed what the doctor suspected;
someone had been trying to poison George Anderson. The strychnine in his
system certainly explained
Untitled Document
I play guitar — or, at least, I like to think I
do — but I never have learned any Christmas carols, though I’ve
attempted to fingerpick “
Untitled Document
If somehow we could only work Santa into this
story
By JACQUELINE JACKSON
I was in a school
hallway, collecting work that had to be done t
Untitled Document
The Christmas of 1985, I was 19 and living in Paris,
where I worked as a fille au pair for Monsieur and Madame Roth and their two young
daughters. I was homesic
Untitled Document
“Pops, which shoes should I wear with
this?”
My dad’s eyes dart up from under his glasses,
and he gives me, then my feet, a quick glan
Untitled Document
The Peace Corps nurse knows where we can get a real
tree. Five days before the 25th of December, with Tsegaw as interpreter,
Clark collects our Ruth