A Summer Night and You

A few nights ago storms drifted up from the central plains of Oklahoma, but they mostly missed us, so Karen and I relaxed on the back deck and stared east at a wall cloud, savoring a cool night in August. Although the rain missed us, we sat together and watched a light show like children […]

The Eyes of a Teacher

What is astounding is not that I remember any of that, but that Mary Brock remembers. Would Mrs. Brock be surprised that the kid who was good at math is now an amateur poet?
Or did she already know, because that is what teachers do, help us become who we are?
It’s the reason why teachers are so underpaid and yet so beloved.