He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful. Mark

I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me; I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be; I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way. I'd

In the city of Chicago, one cold, dark night, a blizzard was setting in. A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner; the people were in and out of the cold. The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers. He walked up to a

This is a re-post of an item on my mother's blog, entitled "What's mine is mine": At last I’ve got my car back. That is to say, it’s not quite my car. Well, to be quite honest, it’s not my car. I did not pay for it, it is not registered

I was regretting the past and fearing the future. Suddenly my Lord was speaking: "My Name is I Am" He paused. I waited. He continued, "When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I WAS. When you live in the future with its problems and fears, it is