Like letters which become sentences that grow into paragraphs, likewise our lives are written.

Our table of contents properly sorts the chapters of our lives, and provides them with subtitles. We dedicate our stories to someone for some reason... my family, my children, my third grade teacher Ms. Johnson for believing in me.

Every book begins in a different way... she was born, he died, they lived. Each chapter discloses who we are, why we are. She stood before us in a board room and passionately prodded us, saying, “We are advocates for kids.” [more]

While we watched the Los Angeles Lakers play the Houston Rockets in game seven, someone asked, "Who is the greatest basketball player ever?"

"Michael Jordan," my brother-in-law said without hesitation.

Felix asked, "What makes a basketball player great? Is it his stats or the number of championship rings he’s won?"

Assertively and persuasively someone proposed that winning championship rings is what makes you great.

"It’s the stats!" Felix disputed. "Robert Horry has seven championship rings. Is he a great player?" [more]

My phone vibrated while I listened to a panelist talk about youth violence and policy with a group of political progressives.

I looked at the phone. It was one of the boys.

I texted. “In meeting. Can’t answer. If you want community service hours go to church at 8-9 pm and sit in youth group meeting. I will not be there. I will be late. But my husband is expecting you all.”

He wrote, “Wat happen.”

“Do you want to do some community service,” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Alright, go to the church at 8. I will be late. But my husband--” [more]

My husband looked at the caller ID. “It’s your mother.” I grabbed the phone and stared at it. I wasn’t going to answer. I wasn’t going to answer because I knew she wanted to wish me a happy mother’s day.

But something compelled me to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Lia, happy mother’s day,” she said.

I didn’t want to say it back but I did, “Same to you.”

“Are you getting ready for church?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Enjoy your day,” she said, before hanging up. [more]

The best time to make a sand cake was after the rain has settled down. The sand held together better when it was soggy.

This week has been rainy. I walked toward school, looked down, and saw worms crawling on the sidewalk. I stopped to remember the days I would pick up a worm, put it into a paper cup and poke at it with a stick.

I smiled, stepped over the worms, and walked into the building. [more]