More Than One Way to the Square We were standing at the top of a church tower. My father had brought me to this spot in a small Italian town not far from our home in Rome. I wondered why. “Look down, Elsa,” Father said. I gathered all my

There are two ways of thinking of history. There is, first, history regarded as a way of looking at other things, really the temporal aspect of anything, from the universe to this nib with which I am writing. Everything has its history. The

Dear Basketball, From the momentI started rolling my dad's tube socksAnd shooting imaginaryGame-winning shotsIn the Great Western ForumI knew one thing was real:I fell in love with you. A love so deep I gave you my all --From my mind & bo

If I knew it would be the last time I'd see you fall asleep, I would tuck you in more tightly and "pray the lord , your soul to keep". If I knew it would be the last time I'd see you walk out the door, I would give you a hug and kiss y

Steve, a twelve-year-old boy with alcoholic parents, was about to be lost forever, by the U.S. education system. Remarkably, he could read, yet, in spite of his reading skills, Steve was failing. He had been failing since first grade, as he