Dès que l’horloge sonne les 12 coups de minuit, que l’énorme boule descend sur Time Square et que l’année se terminant tire sa référence pour céder sa place à la nouvelle, nous commençons inévitablement à réfléchir à nos résolutions.

There is a pang of nostalgia as I watch the yellow buses roll around picking up children, dressed in bright autumn colors, carrying backpacks and lunch pails. 

I have accomplished a few major things in my short 70 years, but I still feel like my music is still ringing somewhere in the distant future.

In studying the gospels, I marvel at the wonderful miracles Jesus performed in His ministry on Earth.

Many years ago, I taught first graders. It was an exciting adventure to meet those eager cherubic faces every day.

I have reached the ripe old age where my stories sound like trudging through knee-deep snow uphill both ways, but back in the old days, life was hard. 

OK – it is 2023 and I’m not perfect yet. That’s alright. No one would like me if I was. I found that out when I was perfect.