humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Luck in Misfortune
Jeanette Abrams, a single mother of four children, stood nervously in a bookstore as she applied for a new job. Her lavender blouse was buttoned up to the collar to appear professional. She had paired the beautiful silk with a black pencil skirt, and casual black heels. Unemployment struck her down wreaking havoc on her family during a large corporate shut down. For her, this silly bookstore job was her rent, her utilities, and food in the mouths of her children. Her goal was to appear professional, and qualified for the position.
By Sabrina Wallace6 years ago in Families
Brockport, New York
What can I say about my little upstate town in western New York? I was born and raised in Brockport and raised my children here. I don’t believe I’ve ever understood the value of this little hidden gem, before now. This historical little storybook college town nestled along the Erie Canal looks like a scene out of the movies. Its Victorian buildings give it the charm of something magical.
By Kristen Viscardi6 years ago in Families
The End of Cherry Season
The End of Cherry Season I was scribbling furiously in my small black notebook. I was sitting in our beat-up barn on a stack of haybales. The horses grunted softly next to me and the air was filled with the smell of fresh hay, packed dirt, and oats that were in the trough next to me. The hay formed a cushion around me, protecting me from the early spring chill along with my tough canvas work jacket.
By Lauren Judith Barclay6 years ago in Families
White
Coming up the icy track my boot slipped upon the rocks stained red with iron. The eroded mesas were fiercely lined with snow, white and martian. Over my shoulder the sun was inching closer to the mountain line, only an hour or so left to get out of the valley before the cold and darkness would make it impossible to return to the shelter. I checked the laces on my boot, and picked the packed snow from the grooves. Everyone thinks the winter is silent. Everyone thinks that snow is white. I heard the far off pacing of the mountain goats, causing the stirred fall of crumbling shale. The bears were all in for their long sleep, and did I imagine, the snapping of that twig? I crouched to the ground and searched with my less perceptive eyes, my eyebrows frozen with mist from above my protected mouth. The pricking of the ears, the raised flag of tail, and then lightly hoofed away, the doe and her almost grown brood. I sighed in relief, if the coyotes were out there would be little I could do to defend myself against a full pack, even if I had carried a gun. It seemed unfair to go against our ancient world with the techniques reserved for modern war. The coyotes were here first, after all, and I was in their house. It was their prerogative to kill me and eat my flesh to nourish them through winter. I paused my journey back to the shelter to drink from an icy stream. The water was like daggers down my throat but it was clean snow melt. My stomach ached from the cold of it. Out from their shelter my lips cracked and began to bleed. A drop fell upon the snow, and I stood, staring at the beauty of that bright carnelian bead freeze upon the down.
By Abigail Godfrey6 years ago in Families
The Small Black Book and The Serenity Angel
"BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ... BUZZ", the alarm clock screeches. Another redundant morning, she throws the cover to the side and throws her legs off the bed, each aching joint at a time. No need to even bother starting the coffee considering she does not have any and her brain is already going a mile a minute about the worries of not meeting her bills and losing her children to their father. Why can’t she be one of the lucky ones who just comes across some money or wins the lottery? Why can’t she find a man who sees a great mother in her? Why can’t her kids have a true father figure? She would be set for life and would not have to worry about another bill or affording a lawyer to defend her character against the father of the kids or worry what damage is being caused by the father and his projecting accusations. "Thank you for calling in today, how may I help you?" is the constant introduction of the hell loop she is stuck in, the only freedom is imagining the "what ifs" of winning the lottery and breaking free. It’s always about helping someone else until you are bled dry and all pruned up. When will she get help? Does anyone even notice that she needs it? She is a raisin at this point.
By Ashley ODell6 years ago in Families
The Canadian city nobody cares about
In grade 10 math, we learned the jarring fact that if a person spent 10 years walking and ended up in exactly the same spot he started, then scientifically speaking, no work had been done. No progress had been made according to the universe. I attended my tenth grade across the street from the hospital I was born in. Years later, I moved in down the street from it.
By Gracie J Chute6 years ago in Families
The Price
Of course, Jerry Rolestein knew it was wrong, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be much longer until his family would be out on the streets. With his parents’ marriage already wavering as it was, how much longer would it be until his father’s sanity cracked and he left them? It wasn’t unbelievable, was it? But truth be told, how often does an opportunity come around like this? And it was no mere coincidence that this book would find its way into his locker, he knew that much. No, someone placed it there. The only question now, was the person acting as an angel or a devil?
By Justin Lawhorne6 years ago in Families
Sepia-Stained Memories . Top Story - February 2021.
Summers at the Jersey seashore were my lifeline as a girl in the 1980s, especially after my parents’ divorce that brought uncertainty and instability into my adolescent universe. Before I was born, my paternal grandparents purchased a seasonal house in Ocean City, making “America’s Greatest Family Resort” the backdrop of the best moments of my childhood. My younger sister Becky and I spent lengthy, sun-drenched summers with my father and grandmother on this island well-known for Blue Laws – meaning it was not just a “dry” town, but on Sundays you could only purchase necessities. Ocean City was known for being tame and family-friendly, especially when compared with nearby Wildwood and Atlantic City.
By Jennifer Christiansen6 years ago in Families
