humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Why Do We Leave Mementos?
My high-school-age son had an old Casio keyboard. It was handed down to him by his grandmother when he was small. He composed some of his first tunes on it. He played sing-along songs for his little sister. He sang to me, accompanied by that little electronic piano. When our family home was foreclosed, my son took his keyboard deep into our woods, propped it against a tree, and left it there. It was the day all of us became briefly homeless. No other place else could be called home by any of us, for a long time after that.
By Sarah Terra8 years ago in Families
If I Am What I Eat...
Along the hardwood floor, pitter patter. My small, barefoot, childish feet take me to the kitchen. The house I have come to know, not my own but similar. I stand in the kitchen, behind the screen of a sliding door. My gaze is set across the lawn and through the slatted fence to my own home. A house, much like the other ones in my somewhat grand but cookie-cutter-esque neighborhood. It is pale olive green and it is encircled by trimmed hedges and seasonal Home Depot flowers. The rope swing that I so loved swayed gently, its red disc seat spinning slowly in spring's gusts. I thought of being on the swing, how I always kept my feet out to push off the towering tree, being frightened every time I twirled, losing sight of the trunk. Waiting for its hard bark to hit me in the back or scratch my elbow. It was a captivating thing, I thought, staring into your own yard, seeing how a passerby might view your life and all that surrounds it.
By ella caisey8 years ago in Families
Why Being Childfree Is Better
Recently, I read this book, Selfish, Shallow, and Self Absorbed, on sixteen writers—male and female—on their decision not to have kids. These writers are mainly middle-aged to old, but if anything, this work only enforced my own feelings I already had on the idea of being a mother.
By Jules Poucher8 years ago in Families
My Sacred Place
Now a barren land, with no life; once was a prospering road filled with the laughter and joy of kids playing all together. It’s now a skeleton road and neighborhood, no young life out and about running and riding their bikes down the street. The older family, like my great grandmother although their spirits young and full of life, their bodies aren’t so young, and can’t necessarily take long and extensive walks because their limbs can’t carry that type of pressure as often anymore.
By Kamaria Imani8 years ago in Families
Not Your Typical Love Story
The year was 2014. I had just started my first job at Wendy’s, you were my manager, always smiling, making me laugh. You were taken at the time, but I’d always wondered what could be. Two years later, you let me go. The reason was understood, and though I was sad, I knew it was for the best.
By Kayla Martin8 years ago in Families
Struggling With Forgiveness
I met him in the seventh grade. He was in the the eighth grade. My soul mate. Now, almost 12 years later, we're still together with a son and we're pregnant. We had our son young. Just like any other parents, we wanted the best for our family and to build an amazing life for our child. (The love of my life, we'll call D.) We had an incredible opportunity presented right before us and we couldn't say no. You see, D's mom, we'll call her M, had recently moved down to Tennessee and she offered for us to come stay with her and her boyfriend and start fresh. We had gone down to visit and the view from the back porch was to die for. I would wake up in the morning and sit on the back porch, drink my morning coffee, smoke my morning cigarette, and just take it all in. So beautiful. Peaceful. Although it was extremely hard to leave all of my family here in Ohio, I knew if we didn't at least try, we would regret it and constantly wonder what if.
By Halie Marie8 years ago in Families
The Truth About Living in a Homeless Shelter
Everyone has this picture in their head of what homelessness looks like. For some, it’s bums in tents, somewhere in the woods or under a highway overpass, drinking and drugging to their heart's content. Others, particularly in larger cities, see the men or women sleeping on park benches, at bus or train stops, or in a pinch on church steps. My image was that of old drunks with holes in their socks riding the rails, like a 1920s comic strip. Yet, when it happened to me, none of these images would prove to be my fate.
By Cameron Boster8 years ago in Families
Vulnerable
You know, the one thing that I have struggled with all my life is the feeling of being unloved. Now at the young age of 27 I have gotten over it, but it sucked the life out of me. My ability to trust was ever clouded, and I dove headfirst into a tidal wave of unhealthy relationships. Given the fact that I settled down with my husband at 16-years-old says a lot.
By Jessica Briggs8 years ago in Families
The Start of Something New
The news hit me like a rock, my stomach twisting in an almost uncomfortable knot. “I can’t find a job,” Mom continues. “Your uncle is willing to let us stay with him in Texas and help me find one there. You’ll get to go to a bigger school, one that has a library and no school uniforms. It’ll be a new beginning.”
By Sharisse Martinez8 years ago in Families
