We live between the feeding and watering grounds of migrating Canada Geese—one of many resting places on their way to the south. From early
Several years ago, when I was a catechist in an Anglican parish, I had the privilege of working with an eight-year-old boy who wanted to
Near the end of his Confessions, St. Augustine wrote, My love is my weight. I’m carried by it wherever I’m carried. Through your gift we
Light, We have passed the midnight of the year, but our Northern world is still in its deep dark cold; the dawn is still far
Part of the work of the church in the world is to care for those who suffer. Thus, it is asked of the Body of
