By Elizabeth Van Liere “Here you go, Sweetheart,” the man said as he opened the City Market door for me. I glared at the football-player-sized man standing there. Unspoken thoughts roiled through my brain. Just a minute, Buster. I’m not your sweetheart. You don’t know me, and for sure I don’t know you. A moment […]
By Elizabeth Van Liere No matter if the skies are gray, my Tuesday mornings shine with special blessings. Six to eight elderly ladies and men wait for me. Oh, not me, exactly. They wait for the blessing of hymns, which I play on my CD player. They come down the hall of the nursing home […]
By Elizabeth Van Liere When I was a child and a sore throat hit, my mom always knew what to do: “Get me one of your dad’s white cotton socks,” she would say. She would soak it in salt water, wring it out, wind it around my neck, and pin a woolen sock over it. […]
